\-"i,i 5 3 



T h: E 



LAST WITNESS; 



A POLITICAL DRAMA. 



li/' ^'' <j^^ 



I-Ht E 



LAST WITNESS; 



AN 



AMERICAN DRAMA 



OF 



POLITICS AND SOCIETY. 



BY 



i. 

W. A. TAYLOR & W. J. M'KEE, ,! 



PMTSBUEGH, PA. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1878, by W. A. Taylor and W. J. 
McKee, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



^ 



4 ^ 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

(teneral Albert Allcott, Member of Congress. 
Ida Allcott, Ms only daughter. 
Barbara Allcott, her aunt. 

Colonel Jerome Fellows, a Politician, {Allcotf s old army friend.) 
Elliott Duane, Attorney at Law, Inventor, &c. 
William Bovine, Ex- Assemblyman 
Tim Buster, a Fifth Ward Statesman. 
Charles Warren, Duane^s Clerk — vigilant, active, brave. 
M. Dawson, an M. D. 

Jackson, a Northern Darkey ; Allcott' s man, {influential with the League, &c. 
Henry Brady, Buane\s Attorney. 
Williams' Wharton, Judge. 
Simpson and Jerry, Railroaders. 
Mason and Parsons, Merchants. 

McFlannery, Goblestein, and Barlow, Gutter-snipe Reformers. 
Ladies, News-boys, Roughs, Tramps, and the Phonograph.* 
Time— To-day. Scene— C7". ,S. A. 



*Hail glorious Science: Thou of Art and Song 

The baby brother; heir to priestly wrong, 

Thy pioneers, born 'mid the hallowed gloom 

Of Superstition's mid-night, did illume 

The minds of men with Truth's celestial ray, 

And led the race to mental liberty. 

Thy great Apostles, reckless of their fate 

Of dungeons — racks — a sullen priesthood's hate. 

Traced cosmic genesis in earth-quake shocks, 

And preached the eternal gospel of the rocks. 

Now with a wondrous tube thy genius sweeps 

The vaulted skies, and sounds the Astral deeps. 

" Breaks heavens enclosures down," and reverent hears 

The mighty undersong of rolling spheres : — 

O'er earth and sea — in stygian mine, and wood 

Hath bound the elements in servitude. 

By thee are wed the ocean sundered lands, 

And alien peoples grasp each other's hands 

And fraternize ; In zones of ste^l, by thee 

The continents I are spanned from sea to sea, 

And thought grows grander as it grows more free. 

J. F. Cooper. 



THE 



LAST WITNESS. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — Room Hotel, White Sulphur Springs, Virginia. — All- 

COTT discovered alone — in his hand a letter. 

Allcott. — Well, well, business will never cease; here I am eome 
down to the springs for rest and recreation, and two friends coming 
now to see me about an invention they want put through at Wash- 
ington. That's business — public business. I'll be glad when I 
am done with it, 1 know. [Looks at his watch.] 8:30 (eight- 
thirty) ; that's their time to be here. 

* Eater Fellows and Duanb together, c. d. 

Fellows. — Good morning, General. 

Duane. — General, [bows.] 

Allcott. — Good morning. [All shake hands.] 

F. — Why, General, the springs have made quite an improve- 
ment on you. 

A.— Think so, Colonel ? 

F.— Why, yes. 

A. — Well, I believe they have myself ;^ I feel about ten (10) 
years younger than when I last saw you. 

D. — Indeed you look it. 

A. — Any news down our way ? 

F. — No, nothing special. Things run along about as usual- 
business takes a ^purt now and then, but it don't hold out long, 

(1) 



You had quite a long session at Congress this time, General. 

A. — Yes, quite so ; with army bills and silver bills I thought it 
would never end ; but end it did, and right glad I am of it — glad 
that it is over — glad that I lived and took part in it. 

F. — Any new news about this Army Bill, General ? 

A, — No, nothing rdbre than that it will pass in good timfe; 
that's all. 

D. — Think it should, General ; you know the South are quite 
solid yet for their lost cause — I mean their lost rights, as they term 
it. 

A.— I know it ; and solid they should be when rights mean 
equal State rights. 

F. — I for one think the South has rights in the army now. 

A. — I know so ; I know that no other State north can steal the 
rights of another State south for any cause whatever — lost or won. 
The South should be trusted in the army — officers as men, for I 
believe now they love the flag — adore it — would die defending it. 

F. — I believe it too. General. 

A. — This talk of solid north and solid south should be done 
away with. War is over — ^^dead between us. We are now one 
people. Let us act as one. Let us — the itrong northern foe — 
prove now the strong northern friend ; let us stand by the South, 
by them at all times — in danger, trouble, toil, want, need, sickness, 
Borrow and suffering, always-ever- stand — a solid friend. 

D.-^ — My sentiments, General, mine every one. * 

A. — Let us do that, and my word for it, the South in future will 
stand by us — true to the core I 

F.— They will. 

A. — I think North and South should now forgive and forget 
their late war — should live in peace in union — forget all — all but 
the glorious dead. 

D. and F. — Ah, yes ! all but the glorious dead ! 

A. — Come, let me give you that sentiment in a toast — the sen- 
timent of «l] good soldiers North and South. 

[A. brings a bottle from his sanctum to a 2 table, having 
glasses on it.] 

(2) 



F.— The toast. 

A. — The Union, one, now and forever, till yon blue sky be 
gray ! [They clink and drink.] 

D. — And now, General, a little busiueas. ' Did you, receive my 
letter about the invention — I mean our letter? oiiol r- 

A. — Yes, I have it here. [Picks up letter.] STou want me to 
take stock in this affair? 

F. — Well, General, as you please. My money is in it-all I 
am worth nearly. I think it a good idea and in good time bound 
to pay. All we want now is a little assistance at Washington to 
secure the patent and make it a great success. 

D. — Yes, General, we want it put through in your usual style. 

F. — The stock book is yet open too General, I believe. 

D. — Yes, General, the stock book is yet open, 

A. — Ah, yes I understand, but I am very sorry to disappoint 
you in both matters. As regards stock I can take none; owing to 
some speculations lately my power in money mutters is quite lim- 
ited. And as to going to Washington again, that will never be, as 
my mind is made up to make this term in Congre-s my last 
term — 

[Fellows and Duanb appear agitated and exchange gKnces.] 
my last term : yes I must leave business of State, as private 
business claims attention—besides I believe in leaving the public 
service befor the public service leaves me. 

F. — Why General th's is news indeed. We had it all fixed at 
home for your rg-nomination. [looks at Duane] 

D — .Yes, General, the people are not yet tired of you I assure 
you. [looks at Fellows] 

[a boy enters with a telegram and gives it to Allcott, and 

(exit c.) 
A. — [opening it] Well Gentlemen, I intend to retire in favor 
of younger blood and — what's this ? What ! Ida injured ? Gentle- 
men — accident what ? Gentlemen, I muet go. 

[Allcott, exit •' c " slightly flustered drops the telegram.] 
Scene closes. Fellows and Duahe exchange signiftcant 

glances 
(3) 



SOENe 2. — Street -Scene — time night or dusk.— Duane enters 
"L." in light traveling costume — Small side Satchel. 

D. — That's a hard looking tramp that is, [looking over shouU 
der) been following me now some time. I wonder what he wants, 
bread or lead ? (Feels in his pocket) I've a good mind to aek 
him; if he keeps following me much longer, I will. Come to 
think of it where's that pistol ? I ought to have that pistol ready 
always, night and day. No telling what may happen traveling 
these times. 

(proceeds to open Satchel.) 

There is nothing on earth for a dark lonely journey like a 
Hght-hesiTted companion. What? gone ? yes it is gone ; I remem- 
ber now I lent that pistol to Fellows over a month ago atid he 
is, now gone back home. Confound him. {Slaps satchel shut) Yes 
confound him, I have half an idea now that he means to throw 
up this invention of mine and run for Allcotts' place — 'twould be 
just like him. Well if he spoils this I'll spoil that, "Blow for 
blow," that is my motto. Yes, I'll make trouble, and if things 
look fair why I'll run myself in opposition. 

So now to catch that Baltimore train. (Exit "R" (looking 
over his shoulder.) 

Scenes. — Room in Allcotts'. — Ida seated, her arminaBling, 
attended by Barbara, her aunt. 

Ida. — (drinking something) — You think Father will arrive 
this morning, Aunt? 

Barbara. — Yes, I'm pretty sure he will ; it is only 10 hours 
ride or so ; he'll be here certain. 

I. — There was no answer to the telegram? 

B.— No answer; but that's. nothing, he would come right away 
you know, not wait to answer it. 

I — I do wish he was here. {Door bell rings) What's that, 
the door bell? 

B.^ — Yes, there goes the door bell; some one coming sure — per- 
haps the Doctor. It is about his time. 

(B goes to the door (C) and looks. 
(4) 



B. — Both Ida both ! the Doctor and — 

[Enter Allcott followed by Doctor Dawson (c. d.)] 

A. — Why darling what's this ? when did it happen ? where was 
Jackson ? not hurt bad, are you? say you ain't. 

I — Only a little frightened now Father ; that's all. I wouldn't 
know I was hurt if some one.didn't ask me. You are not going 
back to the springs agaih? ','.., ' 

A — No darliog no-not for all the best waters in Christendom. 
I think your patient will soon be herself again Doctor. 

D — Oh yes; 'tis only a severe sprain; a few days will see the 
end of it. I see a great change since yesterday — a great change. 
A. — Oh Barbara is quite a nurse Doctor — quite a nurse. 

(advanc*»8 front.) 
D.-r-(advances front) — I'm glad to hear it. 
4r- — Yes-all that and more. Uncommon knowledge hers ; why 
Doctor that little girl knows something of everything — can 
discuss on everything from predestination down to-to-to the 
cooking of lima beans. That's Barbara my sister. 

D — The right one in the right place no doubt. By the way 

General did you see Duane at the springs? He told me he was 

going there to «ee you — something about an invention I think. 

A. — Yes, I saw him bu,t, not long, I was called off home by 

this telegram about Ida. ;,-, 

D. — You know I think a good deal of Duane, General? 
A.— Yes? 

D — I do. I think he is one of the most enterprising young 
men in this District — he deserves encouragement. 
A — Oh he's not slow Duane ; I see that. 

D — You mean to help him then in his little scheme at Wash- 
ington? 

A — Sorry to say no Doctor ; I would like to help him ; but you 

must know I mean to give up life at Washington next year-retire 

from politics-stay at home and attend solely to private business. 

D. — That will be bad news for the people General. 

A. — Well well, Doctor, change makes change; the people must 

change too. 

X5) 



[Enter Jackson and gives a telegram to Alleott.'] 

Jackson — Something in haste General, (exit) 

A . — Excuse me Doctor [he -proceeds to open and retkd. Doctor goes 
over to Ida and Barbara.) 

B. — ^You think there is no danger Doctor? 

D. — Not the least danger if my direciions are followed. Ida 
must try and divert her mind by playing chess or checkers or 
something else, and think and talk about her little arm j ust as little 
as possible. I must go now, I'll call again to-morrow. 

Ida. — What about diet^ Doctor? You know I must hurry 
and get well. 

D — Oh take a generous diet-Barbara knows what-oyiters, 
chicken, eggs &c., fruit sauce, tea, coffee, blue cream Ac, &c. 
Yes, you must hurry and get well, Ida. 

D. — Well, General, I'm off, good morning. (Exit D. — ''c' 

A. — Good morning Doctor, good morning. Barbara, when 
Colonel Fellows arrives send him right up. 

Barbara.— Very well, (exit l. d.). 

[A looks at telegram again.] 

Ida. — Any news exciting. Father ? 

A. — No, child; nothing exciting, 'tis only a telegram from our 
friend Col. Fellows promising to come and see me this morning 
about something — politics I guess. Well, well, politics politics! 
You know I mean to throw up politics now, darling, [throws 

telegram on the table.) 

Ida, — Why no, I don't know that ; you never told me. 

A. — Yes, darling; your Father is going to make a change — a 
change for himself and for you also. 

Ida. — A change for the worse I think. 

A. — No darling, for the better; for the next time you go to 
Washington — you want to go ? 

Ida.— Yes— Well ? 

A. — The next time you go to Washington, you go, not as a 
Congressman's daughter, but better, as a Congressman's wife, and 
wealthy. 

Ida. — Explain, Father. 

(6) 



A.T^I will leave that darling to the writer of this telegram. 
Ida,— Colonel Fellows ? 

A. — Colonel Fellows, yea, darling , you haven't broke with him 
have you ? 

Ida. But Father — .Muth : 

A. — Come come Ida, [rising] if so you must make amends • 
he is my choice for Congress and my influence is such as will send 
him. 

Ida. — But father Duane has spoken to me and — [rising] 
A. — Duane ! Duane is not the man for you child, why I'm 
surprised to hear you name him in such a connection — Duane — 
Duane — never. Come darling you must side with me in this 
matter. 

[Fellows appears at c. door.] 
A. — A congressman's wife — that or nothing. 

[Ida sinks in a chair head on arm, 
Allcott leans over her tenderly.] 
• (Scene closes.) 

Scene 4. — Allcott's mansion — Hallway. [Enter Fellows 
cautiously looking around.] Left. 
Fellows. — Glory ! that was a scene. The General's on a high 
horse to-day. What shall I do now ? go back and introduce my- 
self ? No, I must leave, 'twould be a pin to force myself on him 
now. What said the General? "A congrtssman'a wife — that or 
nothing." I see; [pause] Well I'll humor him by playing 
with her till I gain — [looks to right] What? Some one 
coming ? Oh I must run. [starts to left] Heavens — flanked on 
both sides. Powers of cheek defend me I 

[Barbaea enters (right) Fellows appears 
as if looking for something on the floor.] 
B.— Why Colonel 1 

F. — Oh Barbara did you *see anything of a stray letter of mine 
lying on the floor anywhere ? 

B. — No, Col., I didn't ; did you drop one ? 
F. — I certainly did somewhere 

B. — Perhaps outside. But wait I'll call Jackson and see if he 
knows anything of it. 

• (7) 



F.— No, never mind ; don't trouble yourself. It's only a letter 
of Duane's. Let it go — no matter. 

B. — Oh ! how is Mr. Duane now, Col ? 

F. — Pretty fair. You will have the pleasure of seeing him 
back home again in a day or so I think. 

B.— Yes? ! 

F. — Yes; he's engaged to be ba<ik to-fiiorrow and will unless— 

B.— Unless wh at ? 

F. — Unless some railway accident break the engagement, which 
I hope not. 

B. — And which I hope not. As you Say Colonel I would '4;ake 
great pleasure in seeing him back again and I think I know another 
would take great pleasure also — how ? [She looks archly at him.] 
' F.— No doubt Barbara, no doubt. I know"D" is quite a 
favorite. But Barbara, I must go now. Good day. Should 
Jackson find the letter tell him to keep it for me please, or give 
Duane. [going, crosses over to E.,] 

B.— Good day Col. Find the way out, can you ? 

F. — Oh ! yes, I guess so. Exit [R] 

B. — Well, I must say that's a very short interview for, you 
(^oL, very, [pause and looks after him] I wonder what's hap- 
pened. He's mad, I see that — don't look at all like himself, he 
LQUst have got marching orders; yes, that's it I believe, and this 
letter business is just a little bit of strategy of his— that's all— 
just to blind m^. I see it, and I don't see it, [looking around] 
I think Colonel that Barbara will let that letter be for some time. 

'■'■"-'■:. '■'■■'^' ^ [ExitR. 

Scene 5,— Allcott's— the Lawn — Miansion to R. H. 
Ida enters from House, 
LuANE enters from left. 

Duane. — What ! Ida good morning. 

Ida.— What Elliott ! 

D. — Yes Elliots— glad to see you. How's the pet arm ? 

Ida. — Oh ! nearly well — well enough I guess to shake hands. 
What kept you ? 

[They shake hands.] 

D. — Oh ! we had a first-class rail-road accident — that is to the 
cars. And the arm's all right again ? 

(8) 



Ida. — Yes, when it gets some play it will be all right. What 
news have you — good ? 

D. — Not yet, but I expect some soon. Col. Fellows has ar- 
rived all right — has he ? 

Ida, — Oh yes, some days ago. I understand he is up for con- 
gress — know it ? 

D. — I know it, 'tis all the talk, 

I. — Think he stands a good chance Elliott ? 

D; — I do ; the Colonel is a pretty good talker — that's one 
thing in his lavor — good military record too I believe ; that's 
another ; and rich in cash and credit ( at least people think so ) 
that's everything to gain an election, still with all thesg he may 
fail, There's many a slip you know, &c„ 

Ida, — The Colonel and you are on pretty good terms about a 
certain invention I believe ? 

D, — Yes, Ida, we have an understanding between us about a 
certain invention and that's the very thing I came to see the Gen- 
eral about. He's at home, is he not ? ^ 

Ida. — No, not at home, ain't you glad ? — come along in the 
house now, I want to have a long, long talk with you about things 
in general — come along; don't say no, 

D, — Well, I don't mind — Barbara in ? 

I, — Oh yes, come along, 

[Both enter house.] 

Enter Allcott (Left) appearing very tired. 

A. — Well there's a wild-goose-chase ended — walked away down 
into the city two miles and more to see Colonel Fellows and they 
told me down there Col. Fellows had walked out here to see me. 

[throws himself in a chair.] 
I know he has been here and gone away again — know it sure. 
[calls Jackson] Jackson, Jackson ; where's that boy Jackson 
any way ? Confound such fellows round a house I say ! 

[Jackson enters from House.] 
Well Jackson any one been here to see me and gone away 
and didn't see me? Eh? 
J. — No sir, 
A. — ^What nobody hei'e ? 

B 9 



J. — Oh yes sir ; gomebody here but not gone away, 

A. — Well who is he ? — ^know him ? 

J. — Mr. Duane, 

A, — Dnane ! Duane! what does he want here this time of day? 
how long has he been here ! Where's Barbara ? go and send her to 
me right away-iively now [Exit J. lively into the House.] 

Duane eh? with Ida of course. Well I must give that young 
gentleman to gently understand what my intentions are now in 
regard to his attentions to that young lady. But first I'll hear 
Barbara what she has to say in his behalf and her behalf. 

[Barbara enter from Ilouse.] 

Well Barbara any letters come for me ? 

B, — Oh something better, a visitor — wants to see you right 
away on very very important business, 

A, Important business, who this young Duane ? where is he ? 
with Ida of course, 

B,— Yes. 

A. — I thought so--thought so [Stamps his foot] 

B, — Come brother let me say a good word for him will you ? 
I do think he is a noble young man —yes, and this invention of 
his— 

A, — Invention — stuff! He's playing with you Barbara play- 
ing with you. Go tell him — [Barbara turns to go] 
Hold ! I'll go and see him. [Enters House on r,] 

B, — Well there he goes as cross as cross can be. I wonder if 
all generals flare up and splutter at little things that way. He 
is in a terrible temper, But I never saw him look so black as 
now — never, I do hope he'll not raise a scene in his own house 
whatever he does. Listen ! [voices outside] at Jackson now, 
He is giving him a blowing up, Yes that's him, Oh there is a 
storm coming on here sure. [Jackson enters from house putting 
on an overcoat,] 

Jackson — (advancing) Oh Mies Barbara did you see Colonel 
Fellows lately ? the general he asked me particular about him 
just now, 

B. — Welly speaking generally, I didn't see him lately, and 

10 



speaking privately Jackson, I don't want to see him soon, 

J. — I only axed you, 

B. — I only answered you, 

J. — I thought to ax yon Miss Barbara afore I took this card to 
the Post office — that's all, 

B, — That's all Jackson, I didnt see him, 

[B exit into House,] 

Jackson, — She's doing me wrong talking short that way, I 
suppose the General he scolds her about something and she 
thinks she scolds me about nothing — make it square, Well 
well, I wish I could scold — but I cant I cant scold without swear- 
ing so I never scold at all. Now to the post office the first thing 
and then — let's see , that might get a smash down there — better 
to put it in the upper story, [he takes a flask from lower coat 
pocket at side and places it in upper side pocket] now where's 
that card and I'm oif all right I gues8, 

[Exit C reading the card] 

[He runs against Fellows entering at "c" muffled up] 

J. — Oh sir; excnse me please. ^ 

F. — Oh please go to the d 1. 

[Exit Jackson hurriedly) c. < 

F- — That's Jackson. I wonder if he knew me. No. I guess 
I scared the wits out of him, but I must make up for this the next 
time I see him ; I may want to use him before election — yes, I was 
all wrong talking rough then — I must remember now and practice 
that good old rule of the politicians. 

" Never be haughty to the humble or humble to the haughty .'> 
And now for AUcotts'. I think I am ready to see him. Delays 
are dangerous (especially in politics); I'll have a clear understand- 
ing with him what to do and what not to do. 

[goes toward the house] 

Let me think now what to say first. The first thing will be 
some money — yes, there's no carrying on a campaign these days 
without it — the longer the jjurse the longer the torch — light pro- 
cession — I'll tell him first I need money. He will lend me it ; 
yes, why shouldn't he ? I that saved his life in the army-course he 
will — can't refuse (pause) after that I'll — ^yes — Ida I'll humor 

11 



Ida — I must get into that girls' good graces someway. We must 
be good friends at least and lovers, yes ! lovers of the General. I 
wonder now if she knows that I saved the Generals life one day in 
a battle. I don't believe she does. I never told her that-never. 
Egad I'm all too modest. Let's see now; she must find that out — 
yes I have it — I'll tell Barbara, no ; she won't believe it. Yes I 
will too for if she don't believe it she'll be sure and tell it. Yes 
I'll tell Barbara — that's a lucky thought ! and she will tell Ida — 
Ida will question the General and good ! Ida will then stand just 
where I want her-neutral. Egad Col., your're a plotter, born 
Congressman, and now General good morning. 

[he goes toward the house and hears Duane and Allcott 

discussing] 

D. — [outside] I say yes General and tim*» will show I am 
right. 

A. — [outside] You don't know it — ^you only hope it. 

Fellows. — What! Duane he here? yes; that's his voice certain. 
What's he after I wonder. Hark ! I hear them coming this way 
Lord must I run again from this place ? No I'll stay and be 
caught. [Exitc] 

[Enter Allcott from house followed4)y Duanb 
having letters and papers in hand.] 

A. — Speak easy Duane you have not got the invention as I said 
you have only the hope of a patent, that's all. You may fail. 

D. — Fail-never. I never think of such a thing. If I thought 
of failing I would be sure to fail. My hopes General are certain- 
ties. 

A.— You're dreaming. 

D. — Well General some dreams come true, why not mine? 

A. — "W hy Duane where's your money? Fellows has left you. 
You can never gain in this scheme without money-never. 

D. — Fellows has left me I know it I know too that Col. Fellows 
can never gain in his scheme without money-never. 

A. — He has it. 

D. — You are dreaming General. His money will never send 
him to Congress. 

12 



A. — Well my influence will. You doubt my power. 

D. — I have faith in my own. 

A. — Take care Duane remember where you are. 

D. — My position is safe. 

A. — What ! you'll brave me. 

[Ida appears at door of the house-agitated] 

D. — No General I will not, I am done. I go now and go to 
win. One word ; — here is a letter oifering to advance me $5,000 
to share in the so-called dream, that letter is only one of many 
similar. [Letters in his hand] You doubt my power ? 

A. — I trust your word. 

D. — You see General I have not been idle of late ; I have 
fought the invention and to some purpose. It is now Fellows 
turn to fight. [turns to go.] 

A.— How fight? 

D. — For his election — he may fail. 

A. — Fail! what do you mean Duane? 

D. — Mean (pauses) to do my best to crush him ! 

A rushes towards Duane. 
Ida comes between. 
Tableau. Quick curtain. 



ACT 11. 

Scene 1. — A flash saloon — Bovine, Buster and companions. 

Bov. Well, now gentlemen, it looks like there was going to be 
a chance for honest men and good party workers to come to their 
own. For years and years that old fellow, Allcott, ran for Con- 
gress, and was elected, as a matter of course, but he never spent a 
cent with us fellows who guarded the ballot box and saw he was 
elected. But, now these young chappies have locked horns, and if 
there aint money afloat, then William Bovine of the bloody Fifth 
ward don't understand his business. {To Tim Buster.) So you 

13 



tell me Tim, that tliat Fellow Duane won't come down with the 
stamps. 

Bus. No, sir'ee ; nary stamp, confound him. He says he can 
get the nomination without us. 

Bov. Well, we will see about that. We will teach the young 
rooster 

Johnson. Wal, all I'er gob ter say is, that that there Duane is 
a mighty popler feller among the people, and will have a 

Bov. & Bus. Oh, dry up. 

Johnson. Wal, I'll tell you 

Sh-h-h-hf cheese it. {To Buster.) Did you see Col. FelloVs? 

Bus. I made a pintment with him. He'll be here shortly, 
[Erit&r Col. Fellows C. D.) 

F. Good evening gents, air a little cool outside. Won't you 
take something — inside. Come, everybody — all in. {All drink.) 

Bov. Well, Colonel, I am glad to see you, glad to hear you are 
a candidate against that duffer Duane. 

F. Indeed; then I can rely on you, for your assistance? 

Bov. Of course you can, but it takes a little money, you know, 
to rely with — to get the boys tuned up, as it were, so that they 
will make things hum right lively for you. You see, we've been 
canvassing, and found out that Duane has twenty-five out of the 
forty districts, fixed. 

F. You don't say so? why that gives him the nomination. 
How are we to overcome that sort of an advantage ? 

Bov. Oh, that's easy enough, Col. It will take about |2,500, 
but it can be done. When I say it can be done, it can be done. 
Let me have the funds for professional services, and you will nev- 
er know what becomes of them. {Leers at the boys.) Seventeen 
of the judges of the primaries are waiting to be bought, and 
there are ten more at least in the market. Some of 'em rate high 
— $200 at least — them's the big fellows, while some are as cheap 
as dirt. Five dollars will fetch 'em every time ; them's the 
statesmen that hasn't had a drink for a year, except when it is 
set up for 'em. 

F. {Giving him money.) Well, Mr. Bovine, there is one 
thousand to-night, and I will give you the rest to-morrow in time 

14: 



for the primaries. But what assurance can you give me that I 
will get the delegates? 

Bov. Oh, the best in the world. {Pulling papers out of his 
pocket) Here are the credentials for 27 districts. I wfll send 
about twenty of my boys around to the polling places to vote for 
your men, and I will see that they get the credentials, no differ- 
ence how many votes are given the Duane delegates. 

F. Well, I hope you will be successful. 

Bov. Leave that to me. Col. — old fellow ; leave that to me. 
[Fointing to his crowd.) Here are the manufacturers of public 
sentiment — here are the patriotic citizens who nominate our can- 
didates, and fill our offices with honest me'n — who are not too 
proud to attend the primaries and do their duty. You can rely on 
them Col., every time — this one don't count. {They all drink. 
Huzzas and three cheers for our next Congressman. JSxitYiiL- 
LOWS.) Now, Fellows, do you hear, there's work ahead of you 
to-morrow, and good pay, too. I knew I would rake in a good 
harvest as soon as old Allcott got out of the way, and somebody 
else had to be nominated. Now, I will lay out your work for you. 
Tom, {turning to bar keeper) lock the door, shut up the shop, anci 
don't let anybody else in to-night. (Bovine seats himself at the 
table, the rest gather around hiin. Scene closes.) 



Scene 2. — Street. Time — night. Transparent gas lamp right. 
{Enter Fellows and Allcott together, followed by B. and B. 
discussing something in the paper — by-play.) 

A. Have you any more of these papers concerning Duane 
swindling in soldiers' pensions, Col? 

F. Yes, I think so. {Feels in pocket and gives him one.) 

A. Is this Bovine with the paper your right hand man ? 

F. Yes, Gen'l. A prime A 1 man — a rough and tough and 
ready worker. 

A. He looks all that and more. What is his business ? 

F. Oh, nothing in particular; everything in general. He 
talks of organizing a glee-club for the coming campaign. 

A. That's not so bad for him. 

15 



F. Oh, Bovine, how much money is wanted for that glee-club 
you say ? ^ 

Bov. Speaking to me, Col ? 

F. Yes, about the glee-club money. 

Bov. The glee-club; oh, yes. You like the idea, do you? 
''Bus" here wants to be the leader, 

F. Yes. How much money do you think is needed ? 

Bov. Well, to start it would take $200 about, and to keep it 
up and going — well, let me#ee — 'twould take — well, its all specu- 
lation ; I couldn't say exactly — take about $200 more. 

A. That's quite a sum. Col, 

Bus. There will be some singing. Col, You may rely on that, 
eh, Bovine ? 

F, You know, General, if any money is left over, it could go 
over to the torch-light fund. 

Bus. (Aside.) Yes, over t^e left. 

A. I see, I see. 

Bov. Yes, or to the Convention fund. Col. There are several 
new little items needed on that score, such as — ice water for the 
speakers, and lemons and lozenges, licorice, &c., &c,, them things 
count up, eh, Bill? 

Bus. Correct, and there's the button-hole boquets, eh. Bovine? 

Bov. Yes, and the Chinese lanterns to be got. 

Bus. No, no. Bill, none of them, Chinese lanterns are teetotal- 
ly out of place with us, I object. 

Bov. Well, well, we'll put them out. Suppose we get an elec- 
tric light, eh,?|Dol., eh, Buster ? 

Bus. Good, for luck. (Aside) We'll trick 'em. (B. & B. make 
hy-play.) 

F, There's progress for you. General. 

A. I see, they're fast, 

F, They'll do us, I think, 

A. Well, if you think so, all right. You are running. How 
is it Mr. Buster is prejudiced against the Chinese ? 

F. Only a little so, General. 

A. He must, get over that Col. He must learn to pocket his 
ptide. 

16 



F. Oh yes, he'll grow out of his present state of mind, in 
course of time. 

tBov. And then again, after your election Col., of course you 
will need a big bonfire on the head of it, eh, Buster ? 

Bus. Correct, It takes money for salt barrels, 

F. You see. General, what confidence they have in my election ? 

A. I see, Colonel. 

Bus. And the singing-club. Col., you know they too will need 
some lemons, lozenges, licorice, &c.,eh, Bovine. (Aside) more rhino. 

Bov. That's so. Col., an absolute fact. 

Bus. (Aside.) No choking, eh. Bovine. 

Bov. (Aside.) We'll stick 'era. 

F. All these little items will call for money, Gen'l. 

A. I know it Col. Let's hear them out. 

F. They are all absolutely necessary, to a successful run of 
the political machine. Fellows (Turning to Bovine.) Well, can 
you think of anything else you'll need, or is that all ? 

Bov. Them things are all we'll need for a while, eh. Buster. 

Bus. Tes, them are the principle ones. (B. and B. go to left.) 

A. Well, Col., I'll not haggle about a little more money, but 
you know you are in for quite a sum now. 

F. I know it. General, but time makes all things even. 

A- I'll send you a check down by Jackson next week. Will 
that do ? 

F. Next week. All right, send by Jackson, in a letter. 

A. So, so ; its growing late, (looks at ivatch.) I must be off"; 
anything more to say ? 

F. No, nothing ; only its rather dangerous traveliflg around 
these dark streets. Have you anything with you ? 

A. No, I'll risk it. (Turns to go L.) ^.^ 

F. (Shoios a pistol.) Here's a present of Duane's 

A. No, keep it Col., you may want to use it yourself. Du- 
ane's, eh ? 

F. Yes, take it, I can borrow another. (Offers it.) 

A. No, no ; good night. Col. Good night, gentlemen. 

B. & B, Good night to you. General. 
F. Good night. (A. exit L) 

c 17 



Bov. Well, Col., he's off. When shall we thi-ee treat agaiu ? 

Bus. Yes, and where ? Who's do is it ? 

F. Oh, see here. What about that split to be in the Convlu- 
tion next week — hear of it? You must watch that, Bovine, they 
might flank us. 

Bov. Never fear, Col., never fear. We can wax that split with 
$200— only. 

F. You know that, do you ? 

Bov. We know the ropes, eh, " B." 

B. We do. [Aside.) We'll feel them some day. 

F. Well, you'll want that money 

Bov. To-morrow, eh Buster. 

B. Yes. 

F. True, to-morrow I'll see you fixed. But come, let us go 
somewhere — not be hanging 'round here all night — what say ? I 
feel like setting down. 

Bus. I feel like setting up, eh Bovine. 

Bov. That's my fix. {Takes Fellow's arm.) 

F. Well, come, jog along some where, I'll set it up. 

Bus. Yours, Col., one more. {Takes his arm.) » 

F. Come on, yes, one more. 

Bus. Yes, one of many. {Going out ; aside:) ^ 

Two black crows "set" on a tree; 

Their " bills" were sharp as sharp could be. 

(BusTEE, playing with fingers around moustache; Bovine 
playing with handkerchief around his.) {Exit B.) 



Scene 3. — The Convention — a promiscuous assemblage, half 
dressed as gentlemen, half as loafers. Bovine, in swell dress, 
flash jewelry. Voices, confusion, dfo., <^e. 

Bus. I motion that this here convention does come to order by 
appointing the Honorable Mr. Bovine, of the Fifth ward, as cheer- 
man. 

{A voice.) I secont the move. 

Parsons. I move that Mr. John Mason, our well-known fellow 
citizen, and the representative of our great manufacturing inter- 
im 



ests, be chosen to preside over the deliberations of this conven- 
tion. 

(A voice.) I second the motion. 

Bus. I move the nominations do close, and all who is in favor 
of the election of Mr. Bovine will say " aye." 

{From the roughs.) "Ayes." 

Bus. Mr. Bovine is elected, gentlemen. 

(Ones of) why don't you put the negative ? Why don't you 
put the name of Mr. Mason ? 

Bus. Why, wat's the use ? Haven't we elected a cheerman ? 
Mr. Bovine will take his seat, and I appoint Thomas McFlannery, 
Peter Goblestein and Samuel Barlow to conduct him to the 
cheer. ( The committee, three men, proceed and execute their ntis' 
sion.) 

Par. Gentlemen, these proceedings are irregular; two-thirds 
of the delegates are in favor of Mr, Mason for chairman, and they 
have not expressed their choice. I protest against these proceed- 
ings, and call for — 

Bus. Order ! order ! I call the gentlemen to order. 

Par. You are out of order, sir ; and, not being a delegate to 
this convention, have no right to interrupt its proceedings. 

Bus. What ! me not a delegate ? Its you that ain't a dele- 
gate. Set down or I'll knock you down. 

Par. I do not regard your threats, but I intend to have — 

( Voices of a dozen roughs.) Put him out. Bounce him. Mash 
him. Throw him out of the window, &c., &c. (Parsons is seized 
and forced into a seat.) • 

Bov. (From the chair, pidls out a manuscript and reads): 
Gentlemen of the Convention : I am wholly unable to express my 
sentiments on this occasion, so great is my surprise at being cho- 
sen to the position you have assigned me. When I entered this 
room, a few minutes ago, I had not the least idea your choice would 
fall on me. I would have preferred the election of my distin- 
guished friend, Mr. Mason, but in obedience to the clearly ex- 
pressed will of the majority, I accept the honor. (Cheers.) This 
convention has a great duty to perform, and representing, as it 
does, the will and wishes of the people, it should carry them out 
without fear or favor. When I look around me and see the honest 

19 



faces that are here assembled to put in nomination our next Con- 
gressman, I am more than ever convinced that the country is safe. 
Look at your mottoes : " Reform is our watchword," " Honest 
men to the front," " No Ring rule," "No political tricksters for 
office." These, gentlemen, are noble sentiments. We, gentlemen, 
are the representatives of the people, and it is our duty to execute 
the people's will. I trust that we shall have harmony. We are 
now ready to proceed to business, and the first thing in order is 
the election of a vice president. 

Bus. I motion that Mr. John Mason be elected Vice Presi- 
dent. 

Voice. I second the move. 

Bov. Gentlemen, you have made the motion. All in favor of 
the election of Mr. Mason will say " aye." 

All. Aye. 

Bov. Mr. Mason is elected, and will come forward. The next 
thins: in order is the election of three secretaries. 

A Rough. I nominate Mr. Buster and Mr. Johnson. 

Voice. I second the motion. 

Par. I nominate Mr. Warren, as one secretary. 

Voice. I second the motion. 

A Delegate. Mr. President, neither Buster nor Johnson are 
delegates, I represent the district in which Johnson lives. 

Cries. " Dry up," '*put him out," "no shenanigan," "question, 
question," &c., &c. 

Bov. Gentleman, you have all heard the question. We must 
have no confusion here. All in favor of Messrs. Buster, Johnson, 
and Warren for secretaries, will say " aye." 

A dozen voices. "Aye." 

Twenty-five voices. " No." 

Bov. The ayes have it, and the gentlemen are elected. 

A Rough. I move that the roll be called by districts. 

Bov. {Handing a list to Buster.) Mr. Buster, call the roll 

Bus. {Calling the roll.) 1st district, Peter Jones ; 2d dis- 
t rict, John Mulligan. 

Rough. I contest his seat. 

Bus. 3d district, Wm. Anderson. 

Rough. I contest his seat. 

* ^; •Jf ^ ^ * * ^ * 

20 



(Confusion ensues, stamping of feet, hooting and yelling, (|-c., ^c.) 

Bus. Mr. Cheerman, I motion that a committee of five, on 
contested seats, be appointed to report forthwith. 

Bov. Gents, you have heard the motion ; all in favor of this 
signify consent by saying " aye." 

Voices. "Aye." 

Bov. The chair appoints Mr. Buster, Mr. Johnson, Mr. 
Goblestein, Mr. "Warren and Mr. Parsons. 

(The committee go out, and almost immediately return, and 
Me. Buster hands a paper to the chairman) 

Bov. Gentlemen of the convention : The committee on con- 
tested seats, by a vote of 3 to 2, have decided that the roll being 
called by the chief secretary, before the late interruption, con- 
tains the names of the legally elected delegates to this conven- 
tion. 

Par. Mr. Chairman. I move to lay the report on the table. 
The men here reported as delegates were never voted for, and their 
credentials are false and fraudulent, and some of them were man- 
ufactured on the secretary's table. 

Voices. " Put him out," " throw him out of the window," 
"bounce him," &c., &c. 

Bov. Mr. Parsons, such language is unbecoming in this con- 
vention, and you must restrain yourself. The chair cannot toler- 
ate it. These delegates are honorable men, and a credit to the 
society in which they live. 

Bus. Now you are talking, Mr. President, and those there 
roosters with swaller-tail coats haven't any business here. What 
have they ever done for the party ? Nothing — absolutely nothing, 
and yet they come here and abuse the real workers. 

Roughs. "Bravo," " down with the s waller-tails." 

Bov. Order, gentlemen, order ! Let us do things decently 
and in order. The chair will now entertain the nomination of 
candidates. 

Bus. I nominate Col. Jerome Fellows, the true friend of the 
workingman, and the champion of reform. 

Voice. I second the nomination. 

Par. I nominate Mr. Elliott Duahe, the man who scorns to 
buy an honor which his merits do not entitle him to, and who is 

21 



too respectable to fill a convention with roughs and strikers, to steal 
what he cannot obtain honestly. {Groans, hisses, cries and raps 
of the chairman s gavel.) 

Bov. Mr. Parsons, I shall have you ejected from the convention 
if you indulge in any more personalities. 

Par. Oh ! I'll go out anyhow. There is no use in staying where 
the whole thing is cut and dried. {He is about to leave, but his 
friends restrain him.) 

Bov. As there are no further nominations, the chief secretary 
will proceed to call the roll. 

Bus. {Calling the roll.) 1st district, {answer,) Col. Fellows; 
2d district, {answer,} Col. Fellows ; 3d district, (answer,) Elliott 
Duane ; 4th district, {answer,) Elliott Duane ; &c., &c., * * * 

Bov. Mr. Secretary, announce the vote. 

Bus. Fellows 25; Duane 15. 

Par. That is not the true count. The vote stands, Duane 
21 ; Fellows 19. 

Voices. That's so; that's the true count, &c., &c. 

Johnson. Mr. President, Mr. Buster is right. Our tallies 
agree ; — Fellows, 25 ; Duane, 15. 

Roughs. Of course that's the vote, &c., &c. 

Bov. Col. Fellows having received a majority of all the votes, 
is declared the nominee of this convention. 

Mason. But he has not received a majority. 

Eoughs. Put him out! — mash him! — bounce him! 

Delegate. The nomination of this convention is Mr. Duane. 
He has been fairly nominated; in spite of fraud and bribery and^ — 
{Confusion ensues ; howls, cries, shouts and hisses ; shut, off the 
speaker.) 

Bov. {Loud.) It having been moved and seconded that the 
nomination of Colonel Fellows be made unanimous, all in favor of 
the same say aye. 

, {Cries.) Aye, aye; no, no, &c., &c. {A fight starts; roughs 
attach respectable citizens. Scene doses in the midst of the row. 

2:2 



Scene 4. — Street, Duane's Law Oftce, sign, <^e. Several ladies 
enter office. The Phonograph gives a Musical Soiree behind the 
scenes. Songs/' Echo'' The Phonograph, ""Oh, Cuckoo," 
" Pop Cor?i," ^G. Love Song hy the Phonograph, {in a husky 
voice,) air, " Clicquot, Clicquot." 

Pop corn, pop corn, 
That's the stuff to make you jolly, 

Pop corn, pop corn, 
That's the stuft' to make you jolly, 

Pop corn, pop corn — 
Try it — buy it for your Polly, 

Cupid, Cupid cracks the corn. 

The songs concluded, Warren and Ladies enter. 

Warren. Well ladies, I hope you are well pleased with this 
truly scientific entertainment? 

Barbara. Oh, it was charming, Mr. Warren -f|-good as the 
matinee. ^> 

Ladies. Oh, better, much better. 

War. You will call again. Miss Barbara — all of you ? 

Ladies. Oh yes, good day. {Oat on left.) 

War. Your most obedient, ladies, every Saturday, betweea 2 
and 4 P. M. Good day, good day, good day. (Pawse.) I'll make "pop- 
osals" to that girl Barbara, one of these days. {Exit into office.) 
{Scene opens, and disclosesW aurei^ inside of office at desk writing. 

Phonograph on the table.) 

War. Most everybody says that this election is the most im- 
portant election that has ever occured, or ever will occur in the 
history of the country. Well, I have heard that saying so often, 
I almost believe it. It keeps me pretty busy, however — nothing 
but writing, writing, writing, day in and day out, for the last two 
months. I wish it was over. I believe election business makes 
more business than all other business put together. It seems, the 
more I do the more there is to do ; the more work goes out, the 
more work comes in. 

{Enter Jackson, stopping at door C.) 
War. {Turning round.) Well, sir — morning. 
Jackson. Good morning. Mr. Duane's office ? 
War. Yes. What you want with him ? 

23 



J. He wants me, sir. Miss Allcott says so. She sent me to 
'wait till' I see him. 

War. See Kim. What about ? 

J. Why here I is, to see what about. That's all I know about 
it, Mister. 

War. Your name's Jackson, is it not ? 

J. Jackson ; sure case. 

War. Well, Jackson, come in and take a civil wait. He will 
be in soon. Sit down. (Aside.) It strikes me I heard this Jack- 
son talking up Fellows at a mass-meeting, the other night on the 
hill. Yes, I am pretty sure I did. I'll fix him now so he will not 
be able to talk politics for a month. ( W. goes to phonograph and 
puts in a neio foil — by play.) (Aside.) There, I think that's 
about right. Now, if he turns that handle when I go out, that 
tune will turn his head, I know. (Aloud.) I am going now 
to the postoffice, and wait. (W. takes a slate and lorites, and 
reads following : "will he hack in 10 minutes," places slate on desk, 
^'C, puts hat on, starts to go, and turns hack.) Oh ! Jackson, see 
here ! there's a little piece of mechanism on the table yonder 
called the phonograph, I want to tell you about it before I go. 

J. Oh, yes, sir. I heard tell about it at Allcott's. You talk 
to it; it talks to you. You turn the handle so, so. (Makes mo- 
tions.) 

War. Oh, you heard tell about it, did you 7 You turn the 
handle so, so. Well, Jackson, let me tell you one thing 
more about it. Don't you, Jackson, turn the handle so, so ; or I 
will so, so, Jackson. (Shakes his fist at J.) Understand? 

J. Yes. I understand. 
■ War. You talk to that instrument, and that instrument will 
talk to you. (Shakes fist.) You understand ? 
J. I do, sir. I do understand. 

War. Now mind ; I can tell when I come back, and if I find 
that you have meddled with that phonograph in any way, form or 
manner, I'll put a pinnacle on your head like a church steeple. 
You hear ? (Exit Waeren, C. D.) 

J. What, a pinnacle, eh ? on my head. [Pa^ise.] Now it's my 
opinion that he couldn't put a pinnacle on my head at all, in any 
way, form, or mafitier — evefi if he is ahead clerk. Nov/, he *may 

24 



beat me at writing; but when it comes to pinnacles, I'm there, and 
I flourish a tolerably fast business hand. [Shakes fist.] Gone, is he? 
Now, let me see — what'U I do? I must square-off with him somehow. 
" Pinnacle" I can't stand, and won't stand ; no, sir; I'll not put 
up with such cross talk as that from any gentleman whatever — 
professional or linprofessional. Why, it's a down right breach of 
impudence, nothing less. I know what I'll do; I'll blow up his old 
hyfalutin piece of mechanism. [He goes to phonograph on table 
and sees tickets, ^c] What's here ! tickets ? Yes, election tick- 
ets ; election tickets ! 0, ho ! I smell a rat lying round here. 
[Examines tickets closely. \ There's a ticket marked. [Pause.] 
Those ain't sound tickets — frauds, counterfeits, every one of them. 
[Looks at phonopraph.] A phonograph, eh ? Yes, I understand, 
an election phonograph. Exactly ! foi- printing tickets, double- 
headers. I see. I won't touch it, Mr. Head Clerk; oh, no; I 
won't take some to Col. Fellows; I won't sell many; I won't raise 
the wind ; oh, no ! Let's see, anybody coming [goes to door C] 
Not a soul. Phonograph tickets, eh ? [Takes off his coat.] Head 
like a church -steeple, eh ? [Takes off his hat.] Phonograph ! oh, 
yess^ 'I tell you what's what, Mr. Head Clerk, I'll get ahead of 
you this time, I will. [Spitting on hands.] I'll wind up your 
business, handsome, I will. I'll turn you out of office, I will. 
[He turns the phonograph and it yells out, "go away or Til 
knock you down."] Oh, I'll go. [Sxit JacksoN at C, leaving 
hat and coat.] 

[Warren enters.] 

War. What; that darkey off? Trap sprung, eh? Good. 
[Looking at phonograph.] 1 thought so. I knew I would catch 
him. If I had told him to turn that phonograph he wouldn't 
have done it. Some of his trumpery. [Kicks the coat and lat- 
ter falls out.] A letter, eh? to Col. Fellows ; marked "haste." 
By Jove ! there's something worth something, I know. Haste, eh. 
An election letter, no doubt ; some secrets in that, and money too, 
perhaps. I'll open, see ; no, I won't ; no, no, not I. No, War- 
ren will not open anybody's letters — not even an enemy's. No, 
Warren is too poor to do such dirty work as that — too poor. I'll 
place it back again. [Puts it in coat.] That darkey, I know, will 
tell the Colonel about his letter, and he'll be here after it, sure. I 

D ^5 



don't want that Colonel down on me, no way. He's got a bad eye 
in him — a bad eye. [Knocking heard at door C] There he is 
now , talk of the Old Fellow, and he is sure to appear. I'll pre- 
tend I am writing. [More knocking at door. Goes to desk, dfc] 
" Knock and it shall (not) be opened unto you." [More knocking.] 
Go away, or 111 knock you down. 

[Ida enters.] 

Ida. Good morning, Mr. Warren. 

War. Miss Allcott, good morning. [Offers a chair.] 

Ida. No, I can't wait, Warren. Where is Mr. Duane ? you 
know ? I wish to see him right away, if possible. 

War. Well, I'm not sure, but I think he is on a case at coutt 
to-day. I will find out in five minutes, if you wait that time. 

Ida. I'll wait. Tell him to come, 'tis urgent business, if you 
see him. 

War. I'll do my best, [Mit, C] 

Ida. 'Tis slander, I believe, and yet my heart must hear him 
say 'tis false. I'll see him now, and question him. I must and 
will be satisfied. What! his name a by- word in the public press, 
and he silent ! Why, that of- itself is a fault. He should deny 
this charge. The world now whispers both our names in one; 
what touches him, that touches me. He must deny it — he shall! 
[Paces the room up and down.] If this were Fellows' case there'd 
be a duel. 

[Duane enters, prepared for traveling. Valise, overcoat, (Sfc] 

D. What, Ida ! and alone ? Why, what brought you here ? 
Where is Warren ? 

Ida. I sent Warren to seek you. You've missed him ? 

D. Yes, I've missed him. I'm sorry now, I want to see him 
before 1 go. You know I'm ofi" for Washington by next train. 
But what brought you here ; you look troubled. Come, now, no 
secrets. [Sits down.] 

Ida. No secrets, with all my heart, Elliott — read ! [She hands 
him a newspaper and reads aloud] : " A rumor is current that 
a charge is preferred in the Courts of Washington, D. C, against 
E. Duane, Esq., Attorney at Law, by reason of some irregularity 
in soldiers' pensions, during the year 1868." 

26 



D. Oh, I have read that before. That's nothing at all. 

Ida. 'Tis news to me. 

D. Nothing in it. All false, Ida. A trick that ; "a weak in- 
vention of the enemy." 

Ida. You say that, Elliott ? 

D. I say that, yes. Now you didn't come here to see me 
about that, did you? You must have heard I was going off, 
■ and 

Ida. No, Elliott. I came to hear you say that item all was 
false. And you will write now and publish your denial ? 

D. Publish ! Oh, dear, no. That's what the enemy wants, 
and you know, in politics, we never do what the enemy wants us 
to do — never. 

Ida. You will not write and answer it ? 

D. Not! 

Ida. You will for me ; will you not ? 

D. Ida! [Pause.] 

Ida. [Hisiiig.] The world will judge your silence your con- 
fession. Come, Elliott, I will write it for you. [Takes pen and 
paper.] 

D. Leave it to me, Ida ; leave it to me. I'll think about it. 

Ida. No, Elliott, I cannot wait. I cannot bear to hear my 
name and yours coupled thus. What slanders you, that slanders 
me. You say 'tis false, a libel; write it. One word from you, it dies. 
Elliott, Elliott, you must deny it ! 

D. [Bising.] Must, Ida? Must? 
[Wab.'ri^'S enters '^C," falters, then goes to coat of Jaclfson, takes 

letter from it, and hands it to Fellows, appearing at door C] 

Ida. Forgive me ! [She sinks in a chair and burys face 
in her hands.] 

D. Answer that ? not one word ! [He tears up the paper.] 

Tableau — [Slow curtain.] . 



27 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — A.llcott's Parlor. Table, chairs and fixings. All- 
COTT discovered alone. 
A. {Folding up a newpaper.) So, so — there's another shot at 
Duane about swindling in soldiers' pensions — the fight goes hotly 
on. They tell me that Duane, in spite of all opposition, is hope- 
ful of his election, and Fellows is the same, confident of his. And 
I, well I — I'm sure of neither. I wish I could tl;iink myself into 
one way or the other about it, I'd know how to act. {He rises 
and paces the room.) Confound it, I can't be forever and forever 
lending Fellows money. I wonder where it all goes. There is 
no end to his demands. Why, I'm all but broke. I'll be borrow- 
ing myself from some one to lend him the next thing, and who of ? 
Yes, that's the question, who of? Barbara? no; she would rather 
lend to help Duane than Fellows ; I know Barbara. I'll write to 
Fellows and lecture him a little. Think of it, last week $500 ; 
this week $600, and next week — what next? oh, I must shut 
down on this — -I must — 

{Snter Jackson, with card on salver. A. seizes it.) 
What's this ? from Fellows again ! Duane, what ? Yes, Duane- — 
{reads): " Good news ; let me see you alone ; I'm a made man ; 
money soon. Duane." 

And has that man got the audacity to come to my house and ask 
an interview with me ? yes ; there's his card. What'U I do ? 
See him {pause), or tear it up and send it back ? Show him up. 
{JSxit Jackson, "C") I think I see his game; he means to 
bluff me. {Throws card on table.) 

(Duane enters, "C") 

Duane. .General Allcott,' good morning. 

Allcott. Good morning. "" You honor this house, sir — 

D. I hope. General, to reflect honor on this house some day in 
the near future. 

A. You hope so, do you ? Your conscience is entirely too 
strong ; it hopes too much. 

D. " Hope on, hope ever," General. " We know what we are, 
we cannot tell what we may be."^ 



A. 'Tis easy telling your future in politics, the way things 
look at present. 

D. Politics with me, General, is a side-issue. I come to speak 
of the invention. 

A. Your invention, sir, is a side-issue with me. It has passed 
at Washington, I suppose. 

D. It has. 

A. And you are a made man, you say ? 

D. I have papers that say it, General. {Goes to a okair and 
takes letter jTom pocket.) ,, , , . ,, 

A. You need not sit. You came to tell me this? 

D. I came to tell you, and — (pause). 

A. Yes, and Ida ! I see and know your thought. You think 
to gain her hand by this good news ; you are dreaming yet. 
No, no, Duane, 'twill never be. A congressman's wife ; I've sworn 
it — ^that or nothing ! 

D. I still can hope to make her that. 

A. That you will never be. 

D. 'Tis not decided. 

A. Yes, Duane, it is decided (loud) read! (A. hands him 
newspaper, and D. reads aloud, viz. : "S.windling soldiers — pen- 
sions — July, 1868, — Washington, D. 0."—) .That, sir, ends your 
rivalry. 

D. But, General — 

A. I'll hear no more. Dare you, Duane, come to me now, 
when all these reports are rife against you. Now, when your 
character is the table-talk of all the town, dare you come to me 
and ask my daughter's hand ? 

D. No, General ; let me answer. 

A. No more, Gol Answer that. • {Throws newspaper at 
Duane 's feet. Exit at E 2 E., calling for Jackson.) 

(Duane turns to go., ayid meets Ida at door "C," who has been 
out shopping.) 

Ida. {Taking off shawl, <^c.) What! Elliott! You here? 
What has happened? 

29 



D.' Nothing. A stormy interview about that article in the 
papers, that's all. 

Ida. I thought as much. What said he ? 

D. Oh, nothing much. He dismissed me. 

Ida. You still think that article nothing, do you ? 

D. I think nothing of it ; don't affect me in the least (pause.) 
You see, I have so much character I can lose some and never miss 
it. Let us change the subject. Did Barbara receive my letter 
yesterday ? 

Ida. About the invention, yes. Why? any thing more about it ? 

D. No ; only I find now that I will need some money to place it 
in the market, and 

Ida. Oh, bother that ! Why, Barbara herself would lend you 
money on it now. Yes, anybody. Oh, you didn't ask father for 
any? 

D.. Trust me for that. 

Ida. I do wish you were reconciled to him. By the way, a 
thought strikes me. To-morrow is the day of the election ? ■ 

D. To-morrow is the day. 

Ida. And you have a model phonograph at your office?. So 
Jackson tells me. 

D. Yes. Who told him ? 

Ida. No matter. Suppose, now, we arrange matters to have 
it deliver the election news, in this very room, to-morrow evening. 
What say ? Surprise somebody. 

D. Why, a good I-dea ! (Catches her.) 

Ida. You are confident of your election, Elliott ? 

D. Oh, very confident of my election, very. (Places arm 
around her.) 

Ida. Your heart says so ? sii a x'^Jii^ij.. , 

D. Yes, my heart says so ; what says yours ? ' 

Ida. Oh, it says so-so ; amen ; be it so, and so forth. 

D. That's enough for me, and so — -I go. (Tarns.) 

Ida. Yes. I dismiss you. Don't forget the phonograph. I'll 
send Jackson to your office. 

D. Oh, I'll bring it myself. ': 

Ida. Oh, dear, no ! that would never do. Yoti ttiusn't appear 

30 



at all. You inust be away off, out of, town, absent, non est inven- 
tus, off electioneering somewhere. See ? 

D. P, ho ! I see. I'm out electioneering, and know nothing 
at all about it. I see ! (Pause.) And I don't come in till — 

Ida. I send for you. 

D. Good— 

Ida. Bye. {Throws him a kiss.) 

(DuANE exit', door C. Ida exit, R. 2 E.) 



Scene 2. — Street. Duane's office, {outside) sign, ^c. Warren 
and Jackson come out. J. with a box. 

War. Now you take good care of that, or you will catch thun- 
der—you hear ? {Loud.) 

Jack. Yes, I do hear. {Exit L. Warren looks the door.\ , 

War. Well, there will be no law done here this day. I'm go- 
img to the polls to see justice done. My office to-day is there. 
Let me think, where shall I go first — what ward ? Oh, yes, I'll first 
go and vote myself, and then, and then, {looking after J.) and then 
I'll make for the hill, and place a man there to watch this darky 
Jackson ; I have some doubts of his moral soundness, — of course 
if he is honest he can stand watching. After that I'll manoeuvre 
some men in the 1st ward around this Bovine and Buster, Fellows' 
working men — I got that much out of Jackson this morning. 
{Turns R. Noise, voices outside L.) Halloa, eh, what? why here 
come the early birds. Wide awake Warren. {He 'pulls out a paper 
and reads. Enter Simpson a Railroader^ red lamp, <SfG., followed 
by B. ^ B. discussing ^^Left") '. ' r- 

Simpson. I know what ticket to vote now, — no talk. 

Bov. Well, why don't you vote ? 

Bus. What are you afraid of ? 

Simp. Who are you, anyway? Why, I never saw you before. 
You think you can break me in to vote your ticket, eh? {Turns 
to go, they follow.) Now, you keep away. ^ %i\ .ri ^i 4\0(vm 

Bus. Oh, see here young fellow, we mean well to you, don't 
treat — 

31 



Simp. Now, keep away, I tell you. Don't you follo-^ ihe,— ^you 
do and I'll make you feel drunker than ever you felt in your life. 

War. (Aside.) Pin him little one. (Exit Simpson JR.) 

Bov. Oh, that's a bitter shake, you talked too rough at first, 
Buster. 

.Bus. Did I ? well I didn't think he was such a stern, stubborn, 
stiff cuss, — I thought he was a glass-blower. [Exit with B. '^Leff). 

War. Ha, ha, you rascals, at it are you ? {Looking after Simp- 
son.) You couldn't couple on to him, could you ? No, no, ah, those 
are the men for to-day, — men with their voi(3es in their arms, — 
that know their rights, — yes, and how to handje them. [He box- 
es. Looks after B, ^ B.) Well, as I'm on your track now, I 
think I'll keep on. {Exit L.) 

Scene 3. — Election street. A saloon sign, ''Dew Drop Inn;" next 
to it is a house "To Let." B. & B. and Jackson carry keys 
to this house. 

{A TRAMP enters, trys door of saloon, closed. Buster com- 
ing, "i.," sees him and hails him) 

Bus. Halloa. What are you doing here ? 

Tramp. Minding my own business. What are you doing ? 

Bus. Well, I'm doing the State some service, old fellow, I am. 
Want to help? 

Tra. What at; working? i 

Bus. Electioneering. 

Tra. Don't mind. 

Bus. How do you swear ? . 

Tra. Oh, straight ticketj out and out. 

Bus. You do? 

Tra. I do. 

Bus. Enter in and do. (Buster uses key and takes him in- 
side house " To Let.'') 

(Jackson also enters house with a crowd of the Colored League.) 
{A Barrel of ice water is standing hy saloon, marked "Free," ^c; 

upon it a large 'pile of papers, tracts, ^c, for distribution; a 

rag-man comes in, reads on the ba/r-rd "Free," and bags the 

tracts, ^c. Exit.) 



A71 oldioonian loith basket, selling pop-eorn; a young man and 
girl pass; she hails them : 

Pop-corn, pop-corn ! now is your chance; don't you miss it ! 
(Buster and Tramp cojne out of house, Tramp with a new hat.) 

Bus. {Giving him some papers.) Now, here are your creden- 
tials. Can you read ? 

Tra. You mean to insult me ? 

Bus. No, I mean to instruct you. Your name now, in fall, is 
Peter Butler. See? 

Tra. Peter Butler. 

Bus. Yes, and if any one challenges your vote, show those 
papers and this tax receipt for | — . You see ? 

Tra. Yes. What then ? 

Bus. Then vote, and the boys down at the polls will take care 
of you. They'll know your ''set" by that hat, and put a brick 
in it for you. See ? 

Tra. All right; I'm ready. {Exif'L." Buster into house.) 

Jackson and crowd come out he divides them into sections, ^c, 
(SfC, according to the kind of hats. 

Jackson. Oh, where is Pete Peters. (A voice answers :) Oh, 
all right. Come on, now, if you are ready; I'll be your Moses. 
{Exit with croiod, "L.") 

[SiOSG— Outside to left. Air — "After the Opera."] 

After the 'lection is over, 
After the 'lection is done, 

We'll drink to the health of Good Fellows- 
Good Fellows, the man number one. 
[Repeat.] 

{Cries of pop- corn, outside.) 

The Tramp comes in, knocks at door of house; Buster looks out 

of up stairs window — opens door, enters bringing papers, ^c. 

Bus. Well! all right? 

Tra. Well's all right. ( Wipes mouth alternately with right 

and left hand) " 

Bus. {Giving him papers and a different hat.) Well, here 

E 33 



you are again. That's the Second ward hat; your name this time 
is Peter Keeley, understand ? 

Tra. Yes. That man's dead too, is he ? 

Bus. No. This one's living out West; moved last month. 
Here's his tax bill fixed " 0. K." Look at it, and mind the name. 
Now, Pete, when you go to the Second ward polls, I want you to 
brace up — not walk so crooked — you understand ? 

Tra. Oh, yes, I'll brace. 

Bus. You know, if the police see you walking crooked that way 
round all the polls they might smell a rat, understand ?, 

Tra. All right; that do ? {Bracing up.) 

Bus. Yes. Mind the name. 

Tra. Peter Keeley. 

Bus. All right. Move along. Seventeen more wards to do. 
{Exit Tramp "^.," wiping his mouth with right hand and left 
hand. Buster exit to house.) 

(Song — Outside. Left.) 

"ARer the 'lection is over," 
&c,, &c., &c., &c. 

{Enter Jerry, an Irishman, dinner bucket, 6fc., followed hy 
Bovine, showing him a paper.) 

Jerry. But I have a tax receipt man. I have a tax- receipt ! 

Bov. Well, there, there ! you needn't bellow like a bull about 
it. {B. sees a man trying saloon door and makes after him. Ex- 
it, "B.") 

Jerry. Tax receipt, eh ? to buy up my vote ; you would, would 
you ? Well, you'll not buy up my vote, cause I'm too poor to sell. 
No, no, you dirty demagogues, your dirty gold shalh never par- 
alyze that arm. Never ! never ! down ! Bad luck to you. 
{Holds up a dirty arm. Exit.) Never ! 

{Cries of "pop- corn," outside — a pistol shot heard.) 
A crowd of working men, with dinner -buckets, ^c, enter ^' Left" 

and leave on "Bight." Bovine and Buster soon after enter. 

Bov. There they go, all solid for Duane, What do you think 
Bus-ter ? 

34 



Bus. Let's go down and start a fight — have thein arrested — 
what say ? 

Bov. Go it. {Exit with Bov. "i^.") 

{Noise, confusion, (<?•(?., and a pistol shot on the outside.) 

[Warren enters, absorbed in a 7iewspager; Bovine and Buster 
following,zoatching him, "i^." 2 ^. Ida and Allcott en^er 
"A" 1 E.] 

Ida. 0-h, Father ! there goes Mr. Daane's clerk. Give him 
Barbara's letter about the phonograph; quick! 

A. Wliere ? Wliere? What's his name ? 
[Bovine and Buster makes some by-play, enter house "To Let " 

and bring Fellows to the door.] 

Ida. Warren. 

A. Young man! Warren? [Calling.) 

War. {Turning.) Yes sir ; Warren. Yours. 

A. Will you see Mr. Duane soon ? I have — {feeling in 
pockets.) Where is that letter ? 

War. Yes, sir; I will see him soon— expect to at least. Any 
message for him ? 

A. Yes. Hand him this. That will explain itself. 

War. All right, sir; I will. {Exit i. 2 E. B. <^-B. follow 
him.) 

A. That saves a tramp to the postoffice, anyway. 

Ida. Well, we now can go to the Library, I suppose. 

A, Yes, yes; anywhere away from this place. I do woiider 
if Col. Fellows is at the telegraph office now ? 

Ida. Well, we can see, if we do-drop-in. {They turn R. to go 
and Fellows advances.) 

F. Yours, General. Miss Ida. {Mutual bows, I. ^ F.) 

A. Just speaking of you, Colonel. 

F. Some good words, I hope. {Looking at Ida.) 

A. Oh, I hope you don't need any now, Colonel. But come 
along until I leave Ida at the Library. {Turning "li.'') Howls 
the opposition working, Colonel? 

F. Pretty strong. General, pretty strong. 

A. Well, perseverance, Colonel; the race is not always to the 
strong. 

35 



Ida. Of course, Colonel, you don't want an easy victory. No 
honor in that. 

F. No. There is no honor in an easy victory, that's true. 
{Exeunt, "i^.") 

Jackson. (Entering.) Well, here I go, with $10 to buy a 
half dozen salt barrels for a big bonfire to-night — $10. I'm to 
keep all the change, "0. 0. D." Heavy pay and light work. 
Well, they are a hard crowd — that Bovine and Buster — a hard 
crowd. Why, I believe in my soul they killed more than a hun- 
dred live votes in the First ward alone, just by making fellows 
vote on dead men's tax bills. Yes, more than a hundred. And 
then they " repeated " the same thing all around in the other 
wards. Oh, it was awful! They called it "demonetizing." And 
sometimes they started fights and got people arrested before they 
voted. They didn't care who got licked either ; so as they got 
some one arrested and jailed. That's all they wanted. Oh ! 
they are the blackest and dirtiest rascals ever I did see, and 
after I buy these salt barrels I'm a going to cut them, — cut 
them for good — forever. {Rolls up his eyes.) 

[Exit "JR." Fellows rushes in "L.," calling Jackson. J. en- 
ters again.] 

J. Oh, Colonel ! Mr. Bovine told me to tell you 

F. Come here, you black caterpillar. {Takes him by the throat.) 
You was watched this morning ; you know it ? You was seen 
crawling out of Duane's office, you know it? with a box. Have 
you been playing tricks about this election ; say, have you? 
{Shakes him.) 

J. Me, sir ? Colonel — 

F. Speak. What have you got to say ? {Throws him off.) 

J. I say, who says I tricks, lies ! I worked honest, hard, for 
your side, Colonel, all day — all day. 

F. You black who gave you the box; Duane ? 

J. No, sir, the clerk. I haven't seen Mr. Duane since he was 
at Allcott's. 

F. Allcott's ! Oh, yes, to see Ida. Well, what — 

36 



J. No, sir ; to see the General. I took the card in my blessed 
self. 

F. To the General, and he saw him ? (Fause.) 

J. True and certain. 

F. (Aside.) By heaven ! I saw Allcott give a letter to this 
Warren myself, this very day — his clerk — yes, on the street. How 
lonff was heat Allcott 's. How lone;? 

J. A half hour, sure. 

F. (Aside.) Allcott and Duane against Fellows! Can it be ? 
Has that smooth-tongued hypocrite been plotting both ways ? 
That letter this morning ! what's to be done ! (Fause.) [A pis- 
tol shot on the outside startles Fellows.] (Aside.) He'll plot for 
Duane, will he ? Stop here, Jackson, I want you. I believe you — 
stay — (Aside.) Well, I'll plot for Duane, too. You know 
where the Union Telegraph office is ? 

J. Yes, sir. 

[Fellows writes on paper and gives him it and money.] 

F. Take this ; there, keep the change and hurry back. (Exit 
Jackson, "i^.") 

Fellows. (Writes again.) Now, for a check to both. No, no, 
Allcott; I've not lost yet; plot for Duane, will you? Well, I'll 
plot for Duane, too. Five thousand dollars, I've lost that much. 
Yes, $5,000 ! (Shakes his pen and looks at it closely.) Ha ! this 
little patent of Duane's works well for me. Stop ! (Throws his 
paper down.) By hell ! I have some of Duane's own paper — old 
love letters — -.some where about me. Let's see ; yes, here they are ! 
(Tears of half sheet, unwritten, and begins to write.) I'll use 
that on him. 5,000 ! Yes ! plot for Duane, will you ? (Looks 
at letters.) Duane writes back-handed. (Pause) I'll back-hand 
him. (Writes.) No, no, Allcott; I've not lost yet — not yet. 
One more point before you win ! (He shoios a pistol.) By heaven, 
earth and 

' [A Newsboy rushes in and he puts pistol and note in p)ocket.'\ 

NeWfeboy. Here's your Evening Telephone, third edition, all 
about the election — Telephone ? 

F. (Angry.) No, no, no, no ! [Exit "Z."] 

37 



Newsboy. Well, why didn't you say so before you told me ? 
Here's yer Evening Telephone, &c. [Sxit "B."] 

(SoKG. Outside, "L") 

After the 'lection is over, 
After the battle is done, 
&c., &c., &c., &c. 

[Warren enters loith papers in his hand, "B."] 

War. The crisis is over ; the day is ours ; Duane has won. 
How gloriously the people did rally round us ! 'twas grand. Oh, I 
knew how it would end, when those railroaders and mill-men got 
their work in, after 6 o'clock. I knew the out-come. Why Fel- 
lows thought that he could ring them in to him just — by the 
nose — like swine. But, no; the people voted as the people thought, 
and Fellows fell — never to rise again, I guess. Poor Fellows ! 
That man has lost money. Why, they say that Bovine and Bus- 
ter actually bled him for salt barrels to make a bonfire, before the 
election was over. Yes, actually bled him for salt barrels ! Oh ! 
its outrageous how they took him m. I pity him some myself. 
But, I wonder where Duane is ; haven't seen him all the after- 
noon. . One man told me he saw him flying around the Court 
House pretty high ; but I don.'t believe it. Well, here goes to 
find the happy man, wherever he is. {Turns to go.) Won't that 
girl Ida feel glad when Duane tells who's elected ? Glad ! why 
she'll eat him up. [Exit "L."] 



Scene 4. — Allcott's — Allcott alone — Night lamp burning — 
Phonograph exposed to view on table. 

A. Fellows has lost. Yes, money and all, all gone ! {Throws 
down papers and rises from chair and paces the room.) Confound 
his big, blundering, Hottentot head ! I thought as much. I knew 
how it would be when he got in with those roughs and riff-raff. I 
knew they would get into him — I knew it, knew it. The hot- 
head fool! He has Idst, now, everything, and his pet scoundrels 
have won all — that's the long and short of the whole story. 



He will be here to see me this evening, I know, certain. What 
shall I say ? He's a ruined man, completely ruined, and he will 
blame me for it all. Yes, I encouraged him, urged him on. Eu- 
ined ! yes, he's down now in the world, and everybody will kick 
him and keep him down. [Pause.) I like him, and I don't like 
him. He has a good heart, but his head — confound his big, blun- 
dering head ? Why, Fellows is as headstrong as a — Turk. Turk ! 
it's no name for him, {Pause.) Eash ! why even in the army — 
{he pauses and sits down) — rash ! Yes, I rembember now, his 
rashness once in battle saved my life. I was down, he picked me 
up. Eash ! yes, yes, he is. Some called him fool that day. 
Well, 'twas foolish, madness, rashness — what you will ; but it was 
Fellows. {Pause.) It was Felllows ! He saved my life, yes, 
and now/that he is down — they may call me fool, but I will help 
him. 'Tis right, 'tis duty. Yes, I'll help him. Let me think — 
how ? what — what shall I tell him ? He'll be here soon. Oh ! 
there's that phonograph Barbara talks of buying from Duane 
some day ; the Colonel wouldn't like the sight of that, that's cer- 
tain. {He throws a red cloth over it.) Confound this Duane, 
what is the reason I so dislike him ? I do wish I could reason 
myself out of it. There, I guess that will do. That man is a 
genius, sure. {Pause.) A genius sure. {Leans arm on table.) 
I ought to go to bed and sleep, but I know it is no use. I couldn't 
sleep now to save my life. {Lays head down on the table and 
falls asleep.) 

[Fellows enters cautiously.] 

F. {Looting at A.) Sleeping. {Goes to desk-table and reads 
card aloud.) " Good news — let me see you alone — money soon — 
Duane." Crushes the card and puts it in pocket.) That confirms 
Jackson ; Duane was here. And can that devil sleep ? {Looks 
at A. Pause.) What's this? {Looks under red cloth.) The 
phonograph ! Duane's ! {Pause, trying to control himself.) Oh ! 
I shall go mad, mad !' I see it all — the letter, box, card, money, 
Duane — oh. 

A. {Talking in his sleep).) Duane — that man's a genius — a 
genius, sure. 

F. Ha ! I believe you, liar, now! Eovenge! (Stamps his 

39 



foot.) Allcott ! Allcott ! awake ! awake ! AUcott ! [Pause.) 
Oh! curse him ! Why, I could kill him in his sleep. [Fulls 
out pistol and check, both fall on the floor, dud Allcott awakes) 

A. Fellows ! 

r. Yes, traitor, yes ; Fellows! [Aiming the pistol.) 

A. Hold ! Colonel ! Let me speak, 

F. Speak? No! There! [Throwing red cloth off the phono- 
graph.) That speaks ! Speaks and proves you traitor ! 

A. One word ! 

F. No, no! You double-hearted devil. Die! [He shoots and 
the phonograph turns. ~\ 

A. Hear me. Colonel. 

F. Hear me ! [Advances on A. and shoots again.] You have 
betrayed me, Alcott, you must die! [Uxit "C," throiviny pistol 
down.] 

A. [Struggling in chair.] Farewell, Ida! Ida, farewell ! [He 
falls on the floor.] Dies. 



ScEXE 5. — Street — night. Duane's office. Sign. 

[Jackson enters reading a neiospaper.] 
Jackson. More news, more news, more — what's this? [ReoAs.) 

Oh, Colonel! oh, Colonel! 

Colonel, you've got in a pickle infernal, 

Oh, Colonel ! oh, Colonel ! 

You are elected to stay now at — home. 

Home, oh, that's awful. Who wrote that, any way ? " L. F." 
Who's L. F ? Longfellows, eh ? 

[Ida enters and trys door.] 

Ida. What, now, Jackson — rehearsing a little speech? Oh, 
is father gone home ? 

Jack. The General's gone home. Miss Ida,'long ago — 2 hours. 

Ida. And left you behind ? 

Jack. To bring the latest news. 

Ida. Well J bow is it goin^-rrthe electiou ? 

40 



Jack. All one-sided, Miss Ida — so far. Col. Fellows, he's no 
man's man. 

Ida. So far, so good. ( Walks apart lohile Jackson reads by 
gas lamp "H." Aside.) I must see Duane some way, and give 
him this money of Barbara's. But how ? I'll lose it, sure, if I 
go down there among those crowds to hunt him. 

Jack. {To himself.) How does that go, any way ? (Sings): 

Oh, Colonel! oh, Colonel! 
Colonel, you've got in a pickle infernal, 
&c., &c., &c. 

Ida. Oh, Jackson, suppose you run down to the telegraph 
office, and tell Mr. Duane I want to see him at such a place. 
Show him this {hands card.) That will bring him. You know 
him well — do you ? 

Jack. Oh, yes. [^Aside.] Just the man I want to shake 
hands with. 

Ida. Don't keep me waiting, Jackson ; hurry back as soon as 
you can. [Exit Jackson, "i?."] 

[Fellows enters "Z.," sees Ida, and attempts to leave. She dis- 
covers him.'\ 

Ida. \_Ccdling.'] Oh! Colonel Fellows ! [^sjc^e.] I know he 
is down-hearted, now, about the election ; no matter, I'll speak to 
him. Oh, Colonel, I'm all alone here; won't you stay with me 
till Jackson comes. Do, please. I'm just a little afraid. [Fel- 
lows averts his face ami shrinks from her touch.] Stay awhile — 
won't you, please ? 

F. Oh, girl ! I could kill myself ! 

Ida. Oh, Colonel, don't talk that way — please don't. 

F. I've played for all and lost — lost everything. 

Ida. Everything, but honor. 

F. Honor! 

Ida. Come, cheer up, Colonel; play the man. Duane will help 
you. Yes, I know he will ; time and again, behind your back, he 
has spoken well of you — as a good and gallant soldier. Come, 
Colonel, look up ! I'll make him now your best friend. 

F. Impossible. 

F 41 



[Jackson enters at "B.," Ida advances to meet Mm, leaving Y'E.'L- 
-LOWS at ^'Ly) 

Ida. What, Jackson ! back already ? You saw him and told 
him? 

Jack. Yes ; all right. [Handing a note) He was at the tel- 
egraph office. [J. reads newspaper.) 

Ida. [Reads aloud from note) : " Wait, will be with you in ten 
minutes. Duane." 

F. [Listening. Aside.) Duane coming here ? I cannot face 
him. What shall I — God ! I have it; I'll trick Duane to Allcott's. 
But how? God, how? How! how ! [Paces bach and forth.) 

Ida. Well, I must say, he must be very busy. [Crossing to 
"L.") Yes, Colonel, as I said before, Duane has the best of good 
feeling toward you, and if I say the word, I know he will help you. 
Will you see him now. Come, say yes. 

F. Yes, yes; I am willing. [Fellows crosses to "J^.," Ida to "X."'] 
At which telegraph office was it, Jackson, you saw Duane — the 
" Union " or " Pacific ?" 

Jack. The Union, Colonel. [Hides paper behind Jtim.] He 
mustn't see that song in that paper. 

Ida. [Aside.] Joy ! Duane will shake hands with Fellows — 
Father with both, and I with all. God ! I thank Thee ! 

F. [^Isw7e ] The Union — I know my course. 

Ida, Come, Colonel ; are we ready to go ? 

F. Eeady. 

Ida. Oh, Jackson, don't you stay out later than nine o'clock, 
and if there is any new news bring two or three or four papers 
liorae. Why, Colonel, you are all of a tremble; not cold are you? 
[Hugs his rt?'»i,] 

F. A little. I'll be all right when I get a cigar. [Exeunt, 
arm. in arm, at "jR."] 

Jack. [Reads newspaper arid sings'] — 

"Oh, Colonel! oh, Colonel! 
Colonel, jou've got in a pickle infernal." 
&c., &c., &c., &c. 

[Fellows enters quick, smoking a cigar, "R,"] 
F. Oh, Jackson, if you see Duane tell him we have gone to 

42 : 



Allcott's Don't straggle away; what paper's that ? here. \_Ta]i:es 
paper froin Jackson and gives him a cigar, and exit quick, "i?."] 

Jack. {Looldng at the cigar and after Fellows.] Well, there is 
a breach of impudence — a double breach. A Buckeye toby! You 
confounded grass-hopper, spit- tobacco, gutter-snipe politician — 
you VQ'^ro-heat ! \Malxes to throio cigar and puts it in his pocket.'] 

[A neicshoy shouts outside J Here's the Evening Telephone, 5th 
edition. 

Jack. [Calling.] Hi! Johnny; here! Ho! Johnny; little 
one, (ivhistling.) 

[A neirshoy enters ivith papers ; J. huys one.] 

Jack. What edition ? 

Boy. Fifth' edition, five cents. 

Jack. Here's your five cents. What edition's that sticking 
out of your pocket ? [iikC'K'&ois takes it.] Afive cent novel! you 
young rascal ? here. [ Gives him Fellows' cigar and p)uts the 
novel in his jwcket. Exit hoy.] 

[DuANE enters "i?."] 

D. Where's Ida? 

Jack. Gone home, sir, now, with Colonel Fellows. [Reads pa- 
per.) 

D. What! Home with Fellows? How long ago? which 
way ? 

Jack. Gone just now, sir ; ten minutes ago — five minutes. 

D. Home — with Fellows, too. 

Jack. No, sir. Fellows one — Colonel Fellows. 

D. Damnation ! Why he'l. pick her pocket of this money. 
[Looks at Ida's card and throws it down) What an idea, to come 
away down town among election crowds with money ! Oh, I 
must see her right away; not stand grumbling here. Where can 
I get a whip, horse and buggy, you know? Say, quick. 

J. Hotel, sir ; come along, there's a friend of mine — [Going.) 

D. Stay where you are, you black Judas ! I'll have that 
money to-night, if I have to go the whole road to Allcott's. 
[Exit, "i."] 

Jack. Another breach of impudence. I think, Jackson, you 
had better go home. But I must get another paper first. Let's 

43 



see, what's the name of this one. (Loohs.) " Telephone." ho ! 
that's Duane's. Pictures in it — cartoons. What's this ? Fellows, 
with his stumpy mustache, and there's — [A voice, neibshoy out- 
side,] Another edition. What, the sixth ? [He rushes out "B." 
dropimvj " Telephone ''] Hi, Johnny! ho, Johnny! stop Johnny — 
little one ! 

[Ida and Fellows enter in haste, arm in aryn^ 

Ida. Oh, Colonel, he is gone [calls'] Jackson ! Are you sure 
he said Daane was at the Pacific ? I wonder where he is ; you 
call him, Colonel. 

F. [J.stc?e.] Yes, and call the police. 

Ida. Oh, what's this ? \_Picks up her card sent to Duane and 
goes to gas lamp ctt "i?."] Why, it is the very card I sent 
Duane. 

F. Then Duane's been here and gone, has he ? 

Ida. [Picks up paper.] The Telephone ! we've missed him, 
Colonel, sure and certain. What's to be done ? 

F. Oh, that's bad. [Aside.] I hope he is a good mile on to 
Allcott's. [Aloud.] Mighty bad ! 

Ida. Oh, it's no good standing here. Come, suppose we go 
and try the " Union " office, and if he is not there, why we will go 
home alone — what say? 

F. Say — nothing better — come. [Exit ivith Ida, arm in 
arm, "L."] 

[Chorus in the distance. Outside.] 
"After the 'lection is over," &c. 

[A church hell strikes 9, and — Tableau.] 

[The A.th Scene re-presented — DuANE is leaning over the hody of 
Allcott — Fellows loith Ida standing aghast at the door.] 

[Slow curtain.] 



44 



ACT IV. 

Scene 1. — Duane's Law office — hooks, papers, c^'c, lying round. 
Warren, clerk at desk writing. 

[DuANE enters hastily.] 

Daane. Good morning, Warren. 

Warren. Good morning, sir; some letters.' {Handing them.) 

D. {Taking letters.) Where is the paper? Bring it to me; I 
want to see about this murder. Hear of it ? 

W. Yes, sir; here it is. {Hands newspaper.) 

D. Go down now, Warren, to Dr. Dawson, and tell him to 
please call and see me as soon as possible; lose no time. Just say 
I wish to see him. 

W. Yes, sir; yes, sir. {Aside.) Looks very down-hearted 
this morning in spite of his good fortune. {Exit "C") 

D. And now, about thisrraurder — let me see what they know. 
Yes, here it is; a double column. No; no one knows who did it 
— no suspicions. All is shrouded in mystery — yes, and misery. 
Oh, I cannot, read this now. {Throws down paper on table.) 
Where are those letters ? {Opens one or two.) Oh, yes; congrat- 
ulating me on my election. Yes, yes — {Pauses, rises and paces the 
room.) Elected, yes — I've won — won everything, everything; 
and, what is it all worth now ? Nothing. What is success in 
this world, — glory, honor, fortune and fame, with none to share it 
with you; "none to bless you, none whom you can bless? " Noth- 
ing — a vain empty glittering nothing. {Pause.) Poor, poor All- 
cott — and Ida, God help her. {Picks up paper again.) No, 
I cannot — {throwspaper down.) My brain is all bewildered, diz- 
zy, sick with gloomy thoughts. Last night I dreamt a strange 
and bloody dream, 'Twas horrible — its haunting memory thrills 
.my trembling soul ! I thought 'twas I that murdered Allcott. 
Yes, thought 'twas I — {pause.) I thought — 'twas on a visit — and 
I spoke of money to him — of the election — something of Fellows 
— yes, I swore to do my best to crush him. That angered Allcott, 
and I thought he cursed me. I turned to go, he threatened, 
cursed again, and struck — no; he made to strike me, when some 
one came between. Again and again, I thought he cursed and 

45 



cursed me, — again I, turned to go, lie threatened, cursed again 
— and then, and then I thought [Ida enters, and stops and listens.] 
I turned upon him — ;rushed upon him, shot him — dead ! [Bises.] 
God 'twas horrible ! 

Ida. [Soreaniing.] Elliott, you — you shot him ? no, no — 

D. [Turning.] I shot him ? no, no ! a thousand times no — no, ■ 
girl, your eye again! Ida, Ida! Look at me, — look at me! 
Catches her.] Look at me ! Elliott ! Elliott ! 

Ida. [Stares at him.] Elliott ! 

D. Yes, Elliott; your Elliott — yours. You doubt me I 

Ida. Doubt ? No — no — no. [Fause. ] I'll doubt myself — my 
thought. Yes, doubt all before I doubt of thee ! Forgive me ! 
But, come — no time for words. You must fly. Elliott, suspicion 
lights on you. A pistol was found near the body, and on it your 
initials, and 

D. And mine it was. I loaned it t% Fellows. 

Ida. 'Tis he that swears you guilty. 

D. What, me ? 

Ida. Come, Elliott — come, for the love of Heaven fly—for my 
sake, fly! Come — listen. [Knocking at door " C."] Fly, Elliott — 
'tis death is knocking. 

D. No, no; girl ! I will not fly. I'll meet my fate half way. 
[Goes to door "C."] 

Voice outside. " Open in the name of the Law. 

D. [DuANE opens ^Ae cZoor "C."] "Welcome! 

[Fellows and officers enter. Some lookers-on stand outside,. 
Jackson, 4'c-] 

Ida. Too late ! too late ! [Sinks in a chair and hurys her face 
in her hands.] 

Fel\ows. [Exultingly, —pointing to Duane.] Lieutenant Har- 
ris, this is the Honorable Elliott Duane, Member of Congress elect 
—your prisoner. [The officer gives a paper to Fellows to hold^ and 
then proceeds to hand-cuffi ^Dtjane, as Warren and Dr. Dawson 
ap>pear at door " C,"] 

46 



Scene 2. — Allcott's. The hallway. A thunder storm raging 
ouside. 

[Barbara enters "i?."] 

Barbara. Poor girl ; she has not slept, I do believe, for weeks. 
It seems, the nearer comes the day of trial, the worse and worse 
she grows. I am very, very much afraid she cannot grow much 
worse — cannot stand it much longer. 'Tis sleep soon, or death. 

[fiViier Jackson "i-."] 

Jackson. Here I am. Miss Barbara. 

B. Oh, Jackson; that you? I was just wishing you would 
come. Did you get the medicine ? 

J. Medicine — here it is, Miss Barbara, [hands it.] Doctor 
says 10 drops every hour, and 

B. Yes, yes ; I see. Now, Jackson, I want to ask you some- 
thing about this trial coming on at Court to-morrow. Of course, 
you'll be sworn. Have you thought about what you are going to 
swear ? 

J. Yes, Miss Barbara ; I'm thinking, and thinking iil the time 
about it. You know, I must swear the truth. 

B. You say Duane was angry that evening — election evening ? 

J. Very angry, Miss Barbara, very angry. 

B. And he left you saying he was going to Allcott's ? 

J. No, I heard him say it to himself — he swore it. Miss 
Barbara. ^ 

B. You heard him talking something, too, of money? 

J. Money — yes, he swore he would have it. That's the truth. 
Miss Barbara. [A thunder claj).] 

B. [Pause.] But, Jackson, you wouldn't swear away Duane's 
life, would you ? You wouldn't kill Ida, would you ; think, now? 

J. I think I must swear the truth. Miss Barbara ; swear the 
truth, if the heavens fall ! I must 

B. Yes, yes, Jackson; I know, I know. But you'll not tell 
them, unless they ask you about that part, will you ? 

J. [Pause.] Well — no. 

B. Now, Jackson, another question — you say you saw Colonel 
Fellows that same evening. Now think. Did you see him do 
any writing then ? think now. Oh, dear me, I'm forgetting all 
about this medicine. [Exit "M."] 

47 



J. [^Following Aer.] Yes, yes, Miss Barbara — I saw him writ- 
inp', certain — sure. 



Scene 3. — lioom in Allcott's. Time, night. A table, upon it lamp 
burning, also the Phonograph. A thunder storm raging out- 
side. 

[Ida enters. Not in full dress, hair down, ^c] 

Ida. Sleep I cannot, night after night I lay me down, but all 
in vain, no sleep, no sleep, 'tis gone ! gone ! gone forever, forever 
fled ! [She sinks in a chair.) To-morrow comes his trial, comes 
mine. Escape is none; face him I must and swear, swear what? 
Oh ! cursed memory ! Swear that upon that fatal night I saw him 
standing here, [looks around the '>'oo7n]'heside my murdered,- no, 
no^ not that, not that, I saw not that, no, no, not Duane, no, 'twas a 
dream, a dream, nothing but a dream [pause.] Again and again has 
Fellows said and sworn it was reality ; again and again my con- 
science bids me doubt, [Pause.] I was here, yes, I remember, m y 
father I saw, yes certain, and by him, by him standing some one, 
who? let me think, Duane? No, I don't believe I saw him. How 
could I see, see all? No, I don't believe I saw him. Yet, stay ! I 
did see him that night, certain. [She rises.] Where? let me think, 
let me think where. [Sits dow7i.] 1 saw him ; what said he ? No, 
I went to see him ; yes, with Jackson was it ? Yes, yes, and I saw 
him ; no I saw Fellows and went with Fellows, yes, yes — keep 
still my heart — and saw Duane, no, yes, yes yes, Duane standing 
beside my murdered father ! yes Duane, Duane, Duane ! [Pause.] I 
have said it, and now — God, and must I swear it? [risesY must I? 
Oh, bitter thought to swear to that which proves his guilt, when 
heart and soul believe him innocent ! {Pause, sits down.) But I'll 
swear it, yes I'll swear it. I must, 'tis truth, my father's blood 
has spoken ! [Rising, striking her breast, one, tico, tliree times.] I'll 
swear it, then, what then? He dies, truth lives. No no, truth dies 
with him. Duane is truth, all truth, all, all, all truth ! What, he 
guilty ? [Paces the room up and doiuii, stopp)ing) I would marry 
him, yes, standing at the foot of the gallows ! {Paces the room.) 'Tis 
killing me, I'll think no more, the more I think, the more. I doubt, 

48' 



I'll sleep now, {takes the vial) sleep, forget it all, be free ! yes, a long, 
long sleep ! {reading) "10 drops," ten, only ten ? I'll take more, 
all ; I must sleep, must or die. Die ? suppose I should, well, sup- 
pose; yes, what then? {pause) well, an accident, {pause) yes, they'll 
say it was an accident, an accident, yes, an accident. [Thunder. 1 
{The vial lifted to her lijjs she drops as a flash of lightning puts out 
the lamp). Lights down.) Death ! does Heaven speak ? My very 
brain seems fire ! \_Pause.'\ This thought will madden, kill me. 
[Screams.'] Oh ! that vial, I must sleep, that vial, that vial ! {Gropes 
around the room.) Sleep, sleep ! Come, come, come to me ; come to 
me, come to me, come to me. {She touches table, lamp, &c., and 
the phonograph, tvhich speaJcs in her father^ s voice "Hear me!" 
She falls on her knees, clasping hands as if to pray, exclaims 
" Father I" faints away prostrate on the floor.) 



Scene 4, Court House. The ante-room — douhle-doors and side- 
doors. Bovine a7id Buster saunter in, and go into Court at 
side-door.] 

[Warren enters — sees them.] 

"Warren. What the deuce are they up to round here ? No 
good, I'll be bound. They're tipsy, too; both of them. I'll watch 
them. [Exit in Court] 

[Enter Bovine and Colleague /ro??i Court] 

Colleague. You wish to see me, sir; my name is Colleague ? 

Bovine. I do, I understood that you, sir, will manipulate the 
wheel of Fortune for the Jury box in the coming trial; am I right ? 

C. Yes, I preside over that work. What of it? Be brief, 
please; time is money. ^ 

B. Just so; well, briefly Mr. CoUegue, I was sent to inquire if 
a certain name* well-known to you, individually, could in that 
wheel be packed with the collected "ins," and by some by-law 
picked with the collected "outs." {Pause.) Do you take ? 

C. I see. Has the name been called lately ? 
B. Yes, very— s'ogae two years ago» 

G 49 



C. Two years ago, indeed! time for some change, eli? 

B. Yes, I should say so. Can you make it ? 

G. I can, sir, issue a change. 

B. Sure ? No difficulty — no drawback about it ? 

0. No difficulty in the case whatever, provided 

B. Provided — {goes doion into Ms pockets?) 

C. Provided, some petty incoAie is collected wherewith to 
make the change an absolute draw. (Pause.) Do you take ? 

B. Praw is the word. (Draws his pocket book.) 

C. Just so; of course, Mr. Bovine, there is no bargaining about 
this little turn I do for you; 

B. Oh, no. 

0. For, as a matter of principle, I believe in rotation in office 
anyway. 

B. (Aside.) Oh, yes; and notation any way. (Gives him mon- 
ey — one V. Aloud and smiling at "C") No doubt about this af- 
fair now, eh ? ' 

.0. "What ! this ? (Looking at money.) 

B. No, no; the draw — the draw ! 

C. Oh, the draw. Mum, "Silence in the court." 

B. "Oyez, oyez, oyez." Well, here you are my worthy Col- 
league. (Counting more money.) There is one, two, three — 
three Vs. Eight ? 

C. Eight. 

B. (Aside.) Veni, vidi, vici ! 

C. (Aside.) Just so, just so, just so. 

B. (Wiping his mouth.) Well, my dear Colleague, where 
shall we go now ? 

C. Oh ! I'll take you in. (Both in to Coicrt — side door. Bo- 
Ymi: picking hispiocketas they jostle through the door.) 

[Dawson enters, "L."] 

Dawson. (Looking at ioatch) Well here I am, in good time 
for the trial, I guess. Yes, 10 o'clock; that's churclj time — :a little 
. fast. 

[BusTEE ' enters from Court, exit fast, "i?."] 

Halloa. That man's after something,, or something's- after him 
— certain. 



[Warren enters from Court, turns and sees D.] 

War. Good morning, Doctor. On hand, I see. 

Daw. What, Warren! that you? {They shake hands ) Well, 
how do things look— any brighter? 

War. No, Doctor, worse if anything. 

Daw. WfU, I BUpnose we'll know the very worst to-day — 
think ? 

War. Yes. The prosscution ends this morning, and the de- 
fence is short, very short. I was going to say weak ; but it is 
not weak. 

Daw. You mean Daane's character. 

War. Yes. That's our only hope to save him now. 

Daw. Character will only help to save him. We must besides 
raise some doubt, about this evidence against him. There is too 
much of it ; and we must throw suspicion somewhere else from that 
very fact. 

War. Yes, but how ? Where begin ? 

Daw. At the beginning. This pistol, found near Allcott, with 
Duane's initials; the check for money in Duane's handwriting; 
even the paper on which it was written Duane's — the same as 
used in his office — all these things prove too much. In fact, the 
more I see and hear of the case the more I am convinced it is all 
a plot — and a plot with too much plotting in it. 'Tis overdone. 
You heard Fellows' statement yesterday? 

War. Yes, and watched the jury, and read their very thought 
— conviction. I know and feel 'lis all a plot myself, but how prove 
it to them ? 

Daw. Patience ! Warren. Truth is mighty. 

War. Doctor, a jury's opinion is sometimes mightier; convic- 
tion seems certain. 

Daw. No, no, Y/arren ; opinions change. Conviction yester- 
day is not certain to-day. No, no; new days, new thoughts. 
Truth is mighty to prove itself — it will out in time, confirm our 
faith and fix his innocence. I believe it. 

War, I wish I could. 

Daw. My hope is in Fellows, partly. He is rash ; eager for 

51 



conviction ; cannot conceal it. He will try to prove too much — 
say too much, and prove nothing. 

"War. His statement yesterday was strong. 

Daw. Yes; stronger than the truth. Some of it contained 
judgments, not evidence. That must be pointed out to the jury; 
'twill set their doubts a thinking. 

War. I see. I'll ^vork that point in with some others. 

Daw. Fellows is far too perfect in his knowledge — knows too 
much. But let us in to court. Have you seen any of the Allcott's 
this morning ? {Tunis to go) 

War. Holloa ! Who is this a-rushing this way? Jackson, is 
it not, of Allcott's ? 

[Jackson eni!ers lively, "i^."] 

Jackson. You are Mr. Warren? 

War. My name; yes. What's wanted? 

Jack. A letter from — {Handing it.) ■ 

War. Who— Colonel Fellows? 

Jack. No, sir. No, sir; no, sir; from Miss AUcott. Post 
haste. Good morning, Doctor. 

Daw. Good morning, Jackson. Well, Warren ? 

Jack. Now for the lawyer. {Shows another letter. Exit into 
court.) 

Daw. Well, Warren ; all's well ? 

War. {Heads) " Come, see me — quick ! Lose not a moment ! 
Duane — his life or death ! Ida." 

Daw. There's hope at last — you see ? 

War. Yes. Life and hope in every word. Come ; will 
you go? 

Daw. {Taking his hand) Come. {Exit both, "H.") 

[Scene opens on the trial in Court-room.] 
Lawyer. May it please the Court and Gentlemen of the Jury : 
The circumstantial evidence here produced against Elliott Duane 
is unhappily of such a character as to carry with it the strongest 
conviction of his guilt, and yet he is innocent of this foul murder, 
as innocent as the child unborn. But, either through some pro- 
found mischance, some malapropos coincidence, or by some subtle 
and devilish ingenuity, and the latter I strongly suspect, it seems 

52 , 



almost impossible for us to break the toils that have surrounded 
him and threaten to commit a fouler murder than the first. A 
murder in the name of law and justice. 

[Ida enters "C."] 

At best, we can but offer evidence of his unblemished character, 
and appeal to your sense of discriminating mercy and justice, for 
its vindication; leaving to the revealing touch of time, that brings 
every secret to light, the detection of the actual criminal. 

Ida. {Advancing.) Nay, let us appeal to the living and the 
eternal truth in the present, and not remit to the future the fear- 
ful things that should be dragged into the sun-light of to-day. 

Judge. Unhappy girl ! Your bereavement has impaired your 
reason. The truth has been revealed too plainly already, and he 
whom you have trusted is unworthy your confidence. Your father's 
murderer is before you. {Points to D.) 

Ida. May I speak ? 

Jud. While such proceedings are irregular, we will permit you 
to divert your grief for a moment. 

Ida. TVTy father's murderer is before me. Oh, judge most truly, 
but opinion, like the lying hands upon a false and tampered dial 
points in the wrong direction. The lifted hand of horror casts its 
unhallowed shadow upon the innocent, while the sun-light of public 
confidence falls around the guilty in very mockery of Heaven's 
justice and everlasting truth. The prisoner at the bar, for whom 
the bloody gibbet beckons, is wholly innocent, while the doubly 
guilty stands unabashed and ravenous for more blood within the 
sacred precincts of this august tribunal. 

Jud. Poor girl, you rave. 

Ida. Hear me, but a moment, and then let Heaven and earth 
j.udge betwixt the innocent and the guilty; judge whether my 
unhappy reason is beclouded, or whether justice shoots wide of the 
mark, even when the human archer is blind. God performs his 
wonders through means we little reck or dream of. Not alone 
in the great book of the recording angel was the truth entered when 
a dastard's hand struck down my father's life ; an earthly angel, 
the handi-work of man, an idle dream of mechanism, so-called, 
recorded that which shall redeem innocence from the very gates 

53 



of death, and unloose the thunderbolt of justice that rives the guilty 
soul. [She gives a signal and Waeren enters with the phonograph.] 
Hear it, judge and jury, and accuser of the innocent. It speaks the 
voice of the living, and in the voice of the dead — it speaks. [She 
turns the phonograph and it speaks, viz. .*] 
Allcott's voice. " Hear me, Colonel.'.' 

Eellows voice. "Hear me! You have betrayed me. Allcott, you 
must die !" 

Duane. [Rising.] Light at last, thank God, light at last ! 
Ida. (Rushing toiuard him.) Yes, light, light and — love 
Duane. My glorious — wife ! [Sensation throughout the Court.] 
(The judge and jury rise to their feet — Outsiders dap their hands 
and loave hankerehiefs, noise, cjie. Cries of "order," order inthe 
Court room. Us laivyer goes to p)honograph and Warren ex- 
plains it to him ; — byplay. Dr. Dawson sends Jackson out of 
Court ; — by-play.) 

Law. (Advanding.) Colonel Jerome Fellows ! murder will 
out. This pistol here, Duane's, (picks it up,) has foiled thee now — 
has there revealed thy secret crime — (points to phonograph) — has 
saved his life. (Points to D.) Its fatal shot, that night, struck 
on that instrument — speak not ! — lit up and pictured there in 
tongues of fire, to judge thee now, thy bloody, guilty, murderous 
speech — speak not! Thy hand it was that fired that tell-tale 
shot — recorded, then and there, thine own death-warrant ! No 
mystery now. Speak not. * * * * * * 

Your deeds speak for you, echo from afar, 

And what jou have done makes you what ^o« are.' 

Gentlemen of the j ury : The chain of evidence is complete ; our 
defence is closed ; are you satisfied ? 

[ The Jury sit down — the Lawyer, also. The Judge hands a 'paper 
to Clerk.] 

Jackson. (Entering iviih officer having hand-cuffs.) Yes, sir ; 
the chains of evidence is complete, (Introducing.) Col. Fellows, 
Captain Jordan, Captain Jordan, Fellows. Fellows, Jordan — 
Jordan — 

Barbara. Over the river, Colonel I over the river. 

54 



The officer hand-cuffs Fellows, while leading him to "C. D." 
Jackson makes motions round his neck, says "glick;" takes a 
/a?i/rom Barbara and offers it to F.; the officer takes it for 
him. By-play. 

Fellows, at " C. D.," lifts his head and looks bewildered around 
the room; his eye liglits on Ida ; she points to the phonograph; 
' his head falls as 

[The curtain drops.] 



55 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



017 401 337 8 i 



